


You Don't Only Live Twice

by Littlewinns



Series: Stirred, Not Shaken [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Basically a shit-shower, Canon Compliant - Up to End of Season 2, Compliance with Flash and Arrow Canon is Flexible, Multi, Multiverse, Self-Esteem Issues, Team Tech Support - The BROT3 We All Deserve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-27 23:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlewinns/pseuds/Littlewinns
Summary: It's been eighteen days since he got suspended; and Winn's boredom - and his burgeoning feelings for Lena - have taken a toll on his self-esteem.But there's a new threat in National City, and now he's going to have to deal with the fact that sometimes, he's his own worst enemy.In this case, literally.





	1. Does It Get Any Better? Can It Get Any Worse?

If Winn was being honest with himself, it had all gone pretty much as well as he should have expected.

Optimism is a curse, sometimes.

It had been eighteen days. Eighteen days into his month-long suspension from the DEO, after he'd kinda-sorta-accidentally taken Lena Luthor on a... 'date' to Slaver's Moon; thereby simultaneously cementing his friendship with her, and also kinda-sorta-accidentally falling irrevocably in love with her at the same time.

Winn thought the suspension was kind of unfair. After all, who hasn't done something like that at least once in their lives?

Everyone. Apparently, the person he was thinking of was Everyone. 

At first, he thought it would all blow over. Give it a few days, some sort of crisis would materialise, J'onn would have to call him back in.

Alas, the forces of evil are fickle; and thus, the problems that appeared every week or so when he wasn't suspended had become curiously absent when he was.

So, he'd pottered around for a few days - played video games; caught up on iZombie; got a scratching post for Jadzia so she'd stop destroying the leather of his desk chair - until he'd finally realised that The Call was not gonna come, and he'd need to find something more substantial to occupy his time.

So he'd started on the tape.

Winn - before he'd had the unfortunate revelation to himself of his own feelings - had promised Lena he'd make her a mixtape. Jim Steinman, he'd told her. In truth, he'd have preferred not to have to do it.

Partly, it was because compiling a collection of ridiculous, overlong power ballads so your new, slightly-repressed buddy can know the joys of pretending to play piano solos at her desk was an entirely different task from selecting choice cuts from a library of epic, intense, and - a horrifying thing he'd somehow never noticed until now - often overtly sexual love songs for an album intended for the object of your affections.

But mostly, it was because that would mean thinking about Lena; and whenever he thought about her now, he felt... ashamed. 

Ashamed of himself. He'd failed her.

They'd been honest-to-God friends for all of ninety seconds, and he'd managed to betray her trust. And he didn't know how long he'd been doing it for. How long had he persuaded himself that what he was feeling _now_ was not was how he was feeling _then_? Was it since they talked in the prison cell? The snowball fight? The chess game?

God... since the bandstand?

And plus, if he made this thing for her, he would have to... give it to her.

Which would mean _seeing_ her.

And that would make everything worse. He didn't want to drown in her, and lose all perspective on what truly made her great; or worse, try to find flaws in her, so he wouldn't have to feel like this anymore.

But he'd made her a promise - he hadn't said the words, but he'd intended it as one - and that meant he'd have to make her a tape. He didn't know if it was worth much; but if he couldn't keep a promise, then he didn't deserve to have her as a friend in the first place.

First of all, it had to be a _tape_. He'd considered a CD, or maybe a flash drive; but no. However little respect he had for himself right now, he still had enough that he could draw the line at radio edits.

What? Total Eclipse Of The Heart is seven minutes long at full length. Compromises have to be made somewhere.

So he'd gotten some brand-new C90s, and a late-nineties Walkman off of eBay for her to play them on - he'd looked at classic eighties, but he didn't want to look like he was trying too hard - and went to work. Did he want quantity or quality? Which version of this song should he use; Pandora's Box? Celine Dion? Meat Loaf (there was almost always a Meat Loaf version)? Should he include tracks Steinman had merely produced, or just written lyrics for?

Should he include a folded sheet of extensive liner notes explaining that the female vocalists on Going All The Way Is Just The Start were the recording and live vocalists for Paradise By The Dashboard Light from forty years previously; the title and theme of the later track contradicting and usurping the theme of the younger, and thus giving a fascinating insight into the mind and the evolution of the artist?

He may have been over-thinking it.

But, after three days of listening; making a track-list; re-listening, altering the track-list; writing the liner notes; scrapping the liner notes; being a little freaked out when he realised what Good Girls Go To Heaven was actually about; and, at one point, throwing out a half-finished tape entirely because he'd somehow completely forgotten about Air Supply - it was done: one mixtape, ninety minutes of Jim Steinman songs, ready to deliver.

A fine tribute to an otherwise long-dead act of nerd courtship.

Sometimes, he was so pathetic, he could vomit.

He made an appointment to give it to her - although apparently, appointments weren't necessary anymore, she would just see him anytime he showed up - and accepted his gift graciously, if with an expression that suggested it would be put in a drawer and forgotten about. And then, since she had some free time, Lena suggested a chess game.

He agreed - he hadn't been sure what else he could do - and so they sat down at the Luthor family chessboard, and began to play. He did better than the first time, a whole two minutes went by before Lena announced check-mate; and, after the sportman's handshake, she asked him what he thought he did wrong.

She wasn't being mean. She wasn't making fun of him. She just wanted him to be a better opponent.

It made him feel... something he didn't need to feel right now.

It made him feel _incredible_.

He took a guess, and she asked him a few questions about his answer; then she reset the board, spun it around, and they played again.

Two minutes, fifty-eight seconds.

And somehow, at the end of it, they'd set up a regular game. Which would be... challenging. She'd also suggested that they play over lunch, but he talked his way out of that one. No meals, no drinks, no second locations; nothing that could be construed as a date, in his mind or hers. He'd been down that road before, and that way lay madness.

But he'd managed to keep himself together at their next game day, and as they played - well, in between games, really, as he still couldn't make it five minutes against her - they talked; about what she was working on now, about how Alex was handling the L-Corp project he'd been removed from, about this month's Scientific American, whatever; and he was reminded how comfortable it was being with her, how relaxed he had felt during those six weeks when he'd spoken with her almost every day. He felt at peace.

Which went away as soon as he got back to his apartment.

The boredom was getting to him. Procrastination was one thing, sure, but it required there to be work for you to avoid. At home, he had nothing. Everything he was working on was back at the DEO, and he'd barely had an ounce of inspiration since.

There was a brief blip, a rare prevailing wind of creativity, when he'd taken out a pad, and started sketching out some dresses. Nothing fancy - just some uncomplicated-but-stylish shift dresses, in blacks and reds - suitable for the office, sure; but also for drinks after, with a change of shoes, and some eyeliner...

...until he'd realised exactly _who_ he was designing them for, at which point he put the pad down, then called into the DEO to ask if he could just come in to his lab and work on something, _anything_. Alex - who knew exactly what kind of hell was putting himself through, having heard him serenade Lena in the middle of the damn street - told him to 'hang in there, Loverboy' and then laughed down the other end of the line as she hung up.

And so, there was the movie.

He'd caught the advertisement in the paper as he was out for breakfast - he wasn't an out for breakfast kind of guy, but it got him out of the apartment - but it was perfect. It was, absolutely, the least romantic thing he could think of. It was showing on sister night, he'd checked with Kara; James was going to be 'busy', which was code for 'I'm going out as Guardian and not telling you', as Winn's suspension had included a Guardian ban; it would just be him, and maybe some other lonely guys, sitting in an empty movie theatre in front of a often-forgotten gem of seventies sci-fi.

As three-hour distractions go, it was the perfect plan.

And then Alex screwed it all up.

It was game day, and Lena was on edge. Alex did that to her. They had _not_ made fast friends. 

Winn figured it was because they were too similar; they were both - and he mentally apologised to Eliza for comparing her to the vile excuse for a human that was Lillian Luthor - the 'forgotten' daughter, both striving to prove themselves against the 'favourite' in their mother's eyes; even though Alex had never really needed to, and Lena's mother never deserved the effort.

They were respectful of one another, certainly - Alex, calm and officious; Lena, gracious and co-operative - but with an undercurrent that suggested that they would be happy to resolve this, one day, in a bloody shoot-out; possibly in slow-motion, with doves flying in the background. It was like trying to push the like poles of two magnets together: you could get them to meet, sure; but only awkwardly, and at the edges.

Winn and Lena had been finishing up - four minutes, forty-five, playing black - when Alex, apparently not one to stand on ceremony, had strolled into the office to begin working. Winn wasn't really listening to them; the subtext of their strained politeness could be heard at any wrestling match. He'd been resetting the board before he left, so he didn't know exactly what it was that caused Alex to say:

"How about you take Lena?"

He looked up from the board, just as he heard Lena say, "I'm sorry?"

Alex explained; "There's this movie he wants to go see, and we're all busy, so, I thought, if you were free-

NonononononononoAlexwhatareyou _doing?_

"It's not really-" Winn began, but it was no use. He was sunk.

"When is it?" Lena asked him.

"Tomorrow night, but, you know, I don't think it's really your kinda-"

"Nonsense. You've been kind enough to-" Lena waved at the now set-up board "-indulge me; the least I can do is return the favour. To be honest, I'm a little offended you didn't just ask me."

"Well, it's very nerdy," He protested.

"When aren't you?" Alex joked. She looked over at Winn, full of mirth; and Winn tried very hard not to glare back at her.

Lena didn't _quite_ laugh, and said, "Winn, I grew up with a brother who used to take Babylon 5 way too seriously. I'm used to it."

Winn got up to leave, more perturbed than he'd been hoping for. "Okay. Do you know the Talon, on 9th?"

"I'm sure I can find it," Lena replied.

"Alright. See you there at seven," he said.

"See you then," Lena replied.

"It's a date," Alex interjected, gleefully; looking back at Winn incredibly pleased with herself. And then she winked at him.

Why Alex? What had he done to deserve this?

...This week, anyway?

So, tomorrow night had become tonight, and he insisted to himself that it wasn't a date, and he wasn't trying to make it one.

But he'd never been a particularly good liar.

He'd tried to dress as though he wasn't making an effort - he'd spent an hour trying to dress like he wasn't making an effort - and had shown up wearing one of his better work shirts underneath his jacket. And a tie. And somehow, he still managed to feel under-dressed, because Lena showed up in her immaculate red overcoat, having made absolutely no effort at all - but Lena Luthor's No Effort was only a few steps down from other people's Red Carpet.

Winn knew, in theory, that other men had been on genuine dates with this woman, dates where she was actively trying to make an impression. He wasn't sure how they'd survived. Or if he would, the way she made his heart race.

She drew attention, of course. The movie had brought in a bigger crowd than he'd been expecting, maybe twelve or so, but they were pretty much all the same people: all men; mostly on their own, but the occasional pair or trio; most of them looking like they'd given up on the idea of being in a woman's presence, and for most of them, that was probably best for everyone; all of them furtively turning their heads and stealing glances of Lena whenever they could - all variants of the men Winn might have been, and all precisely the man he felt on the inside right now.

Winn remembered, at the charity gala, how he had offered Lena his arm, after emerging from under the bandstand. If she had taken it, even back then, he would have felt like a god. Right now, he felt like an insect.

He paid for their tickets. He wasn't going to, but his mouth ran away with him; the big, cheerful, coral-blue haired woman in the ticket booth half-amused and half-impressed by the absurdity of the couple in stood in front of her. Plus, Lena didn't carry any cash, except on special occasions; and Winn knew from experience that the theatre's card machine was basically steam-powered.

He paid for snacks too. Every instinct in his body told him not to get his go-to snack, to go small, to not be _that_ guy... which is why he went straight for the jumbo box of sweet popcorn, with Milk Duds to sprinkle over, and a bucket of soda. After all, it's not a date, right? Why was he trying to impress her? Questions that got overwritten by guilt when Lena asked for just a regular soda cup filled with salted, and a bottle of water.

The heads were still turning as they sat down, including Winn's; he knew he shouldn't be looking, but he had to see what she was wearing. The overcoat was hiding a dress - nothing special; just a dress for the office, of a kind with the ones he been drawing just a few days before. But as far as Winn was concerned, it may as well have been a ballgown.

But his heart sank, and it kept sinking. Every turning head; every half-heard murmur; every pair of eyes that looked at her, and then at him, and asked _How did you score with a babe like that?_ made him feel a swell of pride that popped instantly, and then fell to the bottom of his stomach. 

He wasn't who they thought he was. This was all just a misunderstanding. 

And it got worse when Lena politely declined his offer to eat from the ridiculous vat of popcorn he'd bought; which he couldn't stand to eat now, even though he hadn't eaten dinner either, and was ravenous.

The lights dimmed, and the movie started. Winn tried to concentrate, but it was no good. He could feel Lena there, delicately picking at her entirely sensible snack. He stole a few glances, sometimes; just to see if she was enjoying the movie, he told himself, but it was a mistake. Every time he looked, the reflected light from the screen brought out the blues and greens in her eyes, and it ate away at him.

She took his hand when Huey got hurt.

The movie over, they strolled out into the night; the whole of the last two and a half weeks weighing on Winn's mind.

"Are you okay? You hardly touched your mountain of popcorn," Lean asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Winn lied, which immediately made the statement even more false that it already was, "Eyes too big for my stomach, I guess."

"Are you sure? You've been weird all night," she pressed on.

Crap. He knew he was falling to pieces, but he'd mistakenly thought he was holding it together on the outside.

"Ahh, it's just the suspension that's getting to me. I'm not good at feeling useless, you know? And there's, like, still another two weeks-"

"Winn, are we out on a date?" Lena asked him.

He stopped, and examined her face. She wasn't mad. He wanted her to be mad. He wanted her to be furious.

"Ahhh-" his mouth betrayed, and Lena rolled her eyes. 

"Wait, wait- hang on," Winn said, his brain finally kicking in. "I did a production of this play in high school, I can remember the next line..."

He'd been thirteen, and had started sophomore year at a new high school at the same time as Caitlin Tannhauser, who would end up only being there for a semester. She had chestnut hair, and a big smile, and she was oh-so-smart. They'd been paired up as lab partners, and Winn had been smitten with her instantly.

So, for the first time in his life, he'd asked a girl out - the fair was in town - and, unbelievably to young Winslow Schott, she'd said yes. And they were having a great time. Until, at one point, she got quiet all of a sudden, and she asked him the question; and Winn - two years of foster care having blessed him with a certain knowledge of the world, and his place in it - had to stand there, heart breaking in real time, and give the performance:

" _No. No, of course not. I mean, we're just, you know, out having a good time... Unless... Did- Did you want it to be a date?_

"Was that it? Did I get the line right?" He'd nailed it. Sixteen years, and he still had it.

The realisation hit him like a brick in the face.

Sixteen years.

Lena's left eyebrow did a lot of the talking for her, and she smiled That Smile; the one she used to declare victory before anyone else knew what the game was or what the rules were.

_Sixteen years._

"Look," Winn continued, hoping a confident tone would keep him intact, "Firstly, movies are terrible first dates. You can't talk to each other, so the whole thing kind of hinges on whether or not you liked the movie."

 _SIXTEEN YEARS_ , and he was still that lovelorn idiot standing there holding cotton candy while pretending he wasn't dying inside. The only thing that had changed was that he'd gotten taller. And even then, not by much.

"Secondly, _Silent Running_ 's not exactly a 'date' movie," he explained, "I mean, if a middle-aged guy and his robots tending their space garden works for you..."

And the worst thing was, no one was being unreasonable. No one was being mean, or had meant to hurt anyone's feelings. It wasn't anyone fault.

It just... it just wasn't _fair._

Lena shrugged, assertively. Winn wasn't sure how she'd done it, but there it was.

"It's... kind, it's gentle, it... it shows unexpected fortitude. It's very you," she said, and Winn wanted to scream. Not at her, just in general. This would be so much easier if she wasn't saying the nicest things anyone had ever said about him.

"Well, that's very kind of you," he said, "Lena, if I ever ask you out on a date, you will know about it, because I will say _Lena, will you go out on a date with me?_ in a clear voice."

"And that's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

"You're not attracted to me at all?" There was The Smile and The Eyebrow again.

"Well, that just sounds like a trick question-" What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

"Winn?"

"I wouldn't swipe left, if that's what you're asking-

"It's not," she replied, still entirely in control of herself, "Winn, I enjoy spending time with you, and I'd like us to do it more often. But I need you to be honest with me. Are you interested in me, or aren't you?"

He stood there. He wanted to just tell her. To throw caution to the wind, and let the chips fall where they may, and a dozen other clichés about taking chances. 

But this wasn't a chance. He'd been here before. He already knew what she would say. He knew the world, and his place in it.

And he couldn't face it again.

Those lab projects he'd done with Caitlin Tannhauser after the fair hadn't been fun at all.

"Lena, I-" he began, and as he did, he watched Lena's eyes focus upward, way above his head, to the other side of the street.

"What the hell is that?" she asked, quietly.

Winn turned around, and followed her gaze, to the roof of the building opposite. Perched up there, half-hidden in the shadows, was a figure looking down upon them; holding something odd in its left hand. At first, Winn thought it might be James, watching over the city as its Guardian, as he would do sometimes when he was feeling over-dramatic. But no, it couldn't be. The shape in the figure's hand was all wrong for the shield; and there was a hood, soaking up the city light where Guardian's gleaming helm should have reflected it.

No, this was someone else. 

This was... _something_ else.

"WINSLOW SCHOTT!" the hooded figure growled toward the street below, "YOU HAVE FAILED THIS CITY!"

...and then the hooded figure raised his left arm, bringing a longbow into the light; reached behind with his right arm for an arrow, and swiftly released it into Winn's body.


	2. Visitors From Another Earth

"Barry!"

Kara happily ran through Central Ops, her cape and her hair bouncing with each footfall, until she reached Barry Allen, and threw her arms around him.

"Hey, Supergirl," Barry replied, reciprocating the hug.

"I've missed you," she said; before pulling away, and catching sight of Felicity Smoak standing beside him.

"Felicity!" Kara exclaimed, and broke away from Barry to embrace the bespectacled blonde.

"Hey, Kara," Felicity said, before allowing Kara to move onto Iris West, who had been patiently waiting her turn.

"Iris-" Kara said, pulling her into a quick hug, "-wait, I haven't seen it yet, can I...?"

Iris broke into a sly grin, and raised her left hand, fingers splayed, to show off a diamond solitare on a gold band.

"Oooooh," Kara said.

"I know," Iris replied, as her brown eyes met Barry's, his face beaming.

"She can make those, you know," Alex announced, having walked in at the same time as Kara, but not been in so much of a hurry.

"Everyone," Kara said, with a twinge of don't-bring-that-up-right-now, "this is my sister Alex."

"Oh," Barry stepped forward, arm outstretched, "I'm Barry Allen. The Flash. I missed you last time I was here, but I've heard a lot about you."

Alex took his hand, and shook it. "Likewise."

"MAN FROM MARS!" Cisco Ramon shouted as he saw J'onn.

"Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Ramon," J'onn said, shaking the boyish, long-haired man's hand, "Although, somehow I doubt that this is a social visit."

"You are right about that," Cisco replied.

"You can make diamonds?" Iris asked Kara, who let out an exhausted sigh.

"Alex made me eat a box of pencil shavings when we were kids to see what would happen," she said, in a she-had-to-bring-it-up-didn't-she tone.

"And if you'd eaten a few more, we wouldn't have quite so many student loans to repay," Alex joked.

"Do I even _want_ to know how you guys collected the results on that?" Cisco asked her.

"Anyway," Alex uncomfortably segued, "What brings you guys here? Another alien invasion on your Earth? 'Cause it's good you're giving us a heads-up this time."

Kara gave her the 'be nice' glare, knowing full well Alex was referring to the last time Barry had paid Earth-38 a visit, and Supergirl had gone off to help him... and _maaaay_ have forgotten to mention it to Alex first.

"Not this time. We're actually tracking a wanted felon from our Earth, and we think he may have made his way to yours," Felicity explained.

"Metahuman?" Kara asked.

"Nope. Plain old regular variety. Managed to develop a way of opening breaches, and turned himself into an honest-to-God Slider," Cisco said.

"How would he know how to do that?" J'onn asked.

"He broke into the STAR labs computer system," Iris said.

"Yeah, and the STAR labs computer security is _my_ computer security, so you can imagine the kind of trouble we could be in," Felicity continued.

"He can't be that tough. I mean, you didn't bring the Green Arrow-" Kara began.

"Oh he's here, he's just-" Felicity said, before adopting a more confidential tone, "He's out trying to get the lay of the land. He's never been to National City before, on any Earth; and you know how weirdly paranoid Oliver can be. Probably won't check back in until he's memorised every rooftop and alleyway."

"Paranoid?" J'onn said, defensively

"Yeah, that's just good strategy. Become familiar with the terrain-" Alex responded.

"-identify hotspots; potential escape routes; bottlenecks," J'onn continued.

"It's smart," Alex concluded.

Felicity's eyes flicked over to Alex, then to J'onn, and then back to Alex.

"Yeah, you guys are gonna get along just fine," she said. "Speaking of getting familar with the terrain: is this desk free?" she asked, pointing to an empty chair at a desk sparsely covered in action figures, minifigs, and a Nerf gun - none of them hidden, but not exactly on display, either.

"Er, yeah," Alex replied, as she watched her stroll over to the desk, "We'll get our computer guys to set up some access for-"

"No need," Felicity said; she winked at her, and then started to type.

Alex turned to Kara, her eyes questioning, _Does she really think she can-_

Kara glared back, _YES,_ and covered her ears. Alex quickly mirrored her.

"THERE!" Felicity triumphantly hit the enter key, and not a moment passed before the entire room was plunged into the weak darkness of the emergency lighting; except for Felicity herself, who was in the centre of a glaring spotlight, every screen showing security footage of her at the desk, and a variety of VERY LOUD bells and klaxons sounded the alarm, alongside a robot voice screaming "INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!"

J'onn, the only person in the room _not_ covering their ears, picked up the nearest phone, and screamed, "WILL SOMEBODY SHUT THAT DAMN THING OFF?!"

Four seconds passed, and the sound died. A moment later, the lights came back.

Alex uncovered her ears, and told J'onn, "We _have_ to get him to tone that down."

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" Cisco yelled over the ringing that was still in his ears.

"Winn's... very protective of his desk," Kara explained.

"WHAT?!"

"Why so loud?" Iris asked.

"We've had some security... incidents before. He's very thorough," Alex told her, before turning to Felicity, "You did very well. Most hackers get redirected to a fake HHS page about genital herpes."

"Wait, Winn works here now?" Barry asked.

"He does," Kara replied, barely concealing her pride in her friend, "He is an analyst with specialties in information security, advanced technologies, and xeno-linguistics."

"Cool. Should we call him?" Barry continued.

"No," J'onn insisted, "Agent Schott is on a month's suspension for... an infraction." He'd been counting the days. J'onn thought it had just been Winn's ego, but he'd been right: no-one could really cover for him. Things were getting missed.

But the boy needed some time off to pull himself together.

"Besides, he's at the movies. With Lena," Alex added.

"Aw," Kara said, "It's nice that they're becoming friends."

Alex held back from giving her a withering glance. She knew her sister had never been particularly good at picking up on Winn's feelings... but, really?

"Hang on a second..." Iris began, "Winn... Schott?"

"Winn- Winn Schott? Winslow Schott?" Felicity leaped out the chair like it carried an infectious disease, before yelling at Barry, "This is Winslow Schott's desk?"

Barry turned to Iris for support, only to find Iris staring at him as well. "I, er..." he began.

"You _know_ the Toyman?" Iris asked him, scathingly.

He thought for a moment, then replied, "Ok, so, we've only been calling him the Toyman..." motioning at Cisco to back him up.

"Well, yeah, okay, sometimes the nicknames don't help," Cisco said, by means of limited support.

"The Toyman was Winn's father," Kara explained, "He went to prison when Winn was a kid."

"Winslow Schott, junior, aged twenty-nine; born June Nineth, Nineteen Eighty-Eight, to Penelope and Winslow Schott, at Saint Michael's hospital, National City; set off a bomb at Cusack Technologies annual conference, killing twelve people, including William Martell, the CEO of Marbro Toys; wounding more than thirty others; and is currently at large, as he has been for the last seven hundred and fifty-four days."

Winn's friends fell silent as Felicity rattled off the facts from memory. It wasn't Winn. It _couldn't_ be Winn. But that didn't make it any easier to hear.

Alex broke the silence, very intensely not crying. "FBI's most wanted?" she asked.

"Only if ARGUS doesn't find him first," Felicity replied.

"We've never met his mom," Kara said, quietly; less successful at not-crying than Alex was. She remembered Winn's face when he'd been talking about his father, about how afraid he was that he would turn into him. She could imagine what he would think when he heard he could actually turn out even worse.

_But that isn't Winn,_ she reminded herself.

She drew herself up, back into Supergirl mode. "But the rest of it, that isn't Winn."

"No, it'll be his doppleganger," Cisco chimed in.

"His what?" J'onn asked.

"His doppleganger. Each Earth follows it's own unique timeline-" Barry paused, as Cisco and Felicity both gave him a knowing look.

"-Ours, more than most - so, while in this universe, a major event might have happened to make your life turn out a certain way-"

"-Like, whatever it was that made you come to Earth-" Cisco added, helpfully.

"-Yeah, in another universe that event would have a different outcome, and that universe's version of you would have stayed," Barry concluded.

J'onn thought about this carefully. He wasn't sure how to feel about the outright slaughter of his people being an outcome of nothing more than cosmic chance.

"So, while on this Earth, Winn's father became the Toyman, and went to jail; on Earth One-" Kara began, piecing it together.

"-He somehow kept his crap together, and dumped it all down onto his son," Alex finished.

Kara turned to the Last Son of Mars, still deep in thought.

"J'onn," she said, "We have to bring him in."

J'onn looked up at her, and gave the slightest of nods.

"We'll be on lock-down for fifteen minutes because of Ms. Smoak's break-in, but yes."

"Alright!" Cisco yelled, and their eyes all turned to him, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm.

"What? Who doesn't love an evil-twin episode?" he explained. An awkward laugh echoed amongst them.

But not Kara. Alex walked over to her, and wrapped her in a comforting embrace.

"You know he'd be just as thrilled about this if it was anyone else, right?" Alex said, making sure Kara met her gaze, so she would definitely hear her. A few moments passed, and Kara managed a nod.

"So, Winn - this Earth's Winn, I mean-" Iris began, "He's at a movie right now?"

"Yep. _Silent Running_ ," Alex informed her.

"Nice!" Cisco exclaimed.

"Solid call," Felicity added.

Alex braced herself. _Oh my God, there's **three** of them,_ she thought.

"Well - and, Felicity, this might sound silly - but you don't think-" Iris asked her, "- I mean, you don't think there's a chance that-"

Felicity's face froze into a grin; both at the horror of what Iris was suggesting might happen, and the hilarious inevitability that it already had.

"Yeeeaaahhh, we need to get a hold of Oliver _right now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy about how quick this chapter is, but I still feel like it's missing something.
> 
> Anyhoo, as always, comments are welcome.


	3. The Archer, the Knight, and the Russian Spy

The first thing Winn thought, as the arrow entered his left shoulder, was that it didn't hurt.

The second thing he thought was a searing reminder to himself that his first impressions were usually wrong.

These thoughts were quickly bulldozed out of the way - well, not the second one, that one lingered - by the third thought, which consisted of only two words-

_LENA. RUN._

-and either he'd said them out loud, or she'd developed psychic powers, because she instantly took off as fast as her legs and her shoes would allow her; a fact Winn was only really aware of because she'd grabbed hold of his arm that _didn't_ have the arrow in it, and had nearly pulled him off his feet dragging him along.

The Archer changed position on the roof, and released another arrow; Winn heard it clatter against the bricks about a foot away from him.

Lena pulled him into a nearby alleyway, and threw him down next to a dumpster; his arm throbbing as the shaft of the arrow smacked against the metal. She squat down in front of him, dropped her purse at her feet; then reached over, and peeled his right eye open to ensure he was still concious.

"Stay awake," she ordered, then opened up her purse.

"You should go... get away..." Winn said, trying to focus on the arrow protruding from his body. Why had someone shot him with an arrow? The flights were green; was that the Green Arrow? What was he doing here? Why had the Green Arrow put an arrow in him? What about Lena? Was she gonna be okay?

Seriously, the arrow thing. Gonna need an answer on that.

But Lena had to run. If it _was_ the Green Arrow was after him, he probably wouldn't follow her if she ran. Then, all he needed to do was wait, and hope that Supergirl got to him in time WAIT IS THAT A GUN?

The Modern Pentathlon is an Olympic event intended to reflect the skills needed to be a Nineteenth-century cavalryman. Although Lena's trip to Beijing in 2008 had done nothing to show off her skills on horseback, Winn had seen first-hand just how good her shooting could be. She pulled back the hammer of the 9mm Beretta she'd had in her purse, and stood up; taking a cover position where the alley met the street. Winn watched her peer around the corner; then she stepped boldly out into the street, raised her pistol, and fired twice. There was a faint thud, and she dived back down to help him to his feet.

"We have to move," she commanded.

He stood, as quickly as his injury would allow, before Lena took his right hand and pulled him out into the street again.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, as he caught a glimpse of what lay in the street. The Archer was prone, motionless and face down, his bow beside him. Above him, a zipline had appeared, from his rooftop position down to the street. He'd clearly fallen when he'd been hit.

"DID YOU JUST KILL THE GREEN ARROW?" Winn yelled, as Lena pulled on him arm again.

" _Let's GO!_ " she said; as Winn saw the Archer stir, and start to push himself of the ground. 

Lena put all her effort into dragging Winn away from the archer, and his feet finally acquiesced. It hurt, but it forced him to keep up; each tug on his arm demanding he move forward. But, if she didn't calm down and let him move at his own pace, then pretty soon, the way she was pulling at him was going to dislocate his-

Yeeeeeaaaaah. There it went.

"NYAHGH!!!" leapt out of Winn's mouth.

"Are you hit?" Lena barked, promptly coming to a halt.

Winn held himself up, as much as he could, both his shoulders in agony; but he couldn't move any further.

"No, I just- i just-" He fought to remain conscious. _Just make sure she's safe, Winslow. Then you can pass out._

Lena pulled him down to hide behind a car. But hide from what? The Archer was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

"Run... just run," Winn said, the words leaking out of him.

"Now you're just being ridiculous," Lena replied, dryly, diving back into her purse for her cell-phone.

Winn tiredly scanned the street - now deserted after the gunshots, but not much more than it had been previously - peering into every shadow to see what it could be hiding; worried about what sounds every passing car could be covering.

And then, suddenly, one of the shadows wasn't a shadow anymore.

"Lena?" he said, weakly, drowned out by an approaching motorcycle.

The Archer drew back on his bow. But it wasn't pointed at Winn.

Winn pushed himself off the car, his arms screaming, and trying to get in front of Lena before the Archer could release the draw; but all that happened was that he collapsed on the ground. His fall distracted her from her phone; drawing her attention to him, and then to the Archer, just as the arrow began its voyage toward her...

...and then it was stopped, by a second masked figure; one who jumped off the car Winn had been leaning against, performed an acrobatic flip onto the sidewalk, and deflected the arrow with his shield.

"Oh, thank _God_ ," Winn exclaimed, as he caught sight of Lena's wide-eyed expression, "Oh, right- Guardian, Lena; Lena, Guardian..."

" _RUN_ " said James, through Guardian's voice distorter.

"I'm tryin- ahhhh," Winn said, as Lena moved straight past her shock, and has grabbed him by the armpits to pull him up.

"Stop complaining," Lena said, knowing full well how much his arms hurt right now.

James began his slow stride toward the Archer; deflecting more arrows as Winn fell back down against the car.

As the vibrating arrow shaft brought on another wave of agony, Winn heard a curious thing come out of the Archer's mouth.

"Not a good time, Overwatch. I have eyes on Toyman."

 

"Oh, thank God!," Felicity exclaimed, "We have been trying to get hold of you, but we're all trapped in here, the entire place is on lockdown, no net, no nothing, even the cell-phones don't work in here because of something to do with the walls being lined with lead, it's a miracle the radio still works- wait, what do you mean you have eyes on Toyman?"

"Little busy right now!" Oliver yelled back at her, as he exchanged blows with the Knight, his right arm on fire from where the bullet had grazed it.

Felicity machine-gunned her way through the situation, "Okay, you see thing is, Winn Schott, the Winn Schott of this Earth, the Earth-38 doppleganger, I mean? He lives here, in National City, I'm actually stood at his desk right now, so are you actually sure that-"

" _I'm pretty sure!_ " he growled, "He's got bodyguards." 

" _DAMN RIGHT HE DOES_ ," the Knight growled back.

Oliver hadn't been prepared for this. He'd been prepared for bombs. He'd been prepared for poison gas. He'd even been prepared for a rematch with that swarm of killer robot teddy-bears. Anything the Toyman could have thrown at him, he'd been ready for.

But somehow, it hadn't occurred to him he'd need to fight a six-and-a-half foot, armour-clad behemoth. As for the other one...

"I think one of them's a Russian spy," Oliver said, barely dodging the Knight's shield. Oliver wasn't really sure why he'd said that. He'd seen Russian spies. He'd _met_ Russian spies. But they didn't look like that, except in a very particular kind of Cold War movie. Nevertheless, the label had stuck in his mind.

"Wait, what makes you think she's a spy?" Felicity asked.

"She shot me."

"Well, okay, that makes sense," Felicity deadpanned, taking in the scene in the DEO around her. J'onn was on the phone, trying to get the lockdown lifted. The others were crowded around Alex, in what seemed like an endless, panicked, circular game of Twenty Questions.

"So the movie they're seeing is...?" Iris asked.

" _Silent Running_ ," Alex replied, frustrated at the number of times they'd gone over this.

"And it's playing at...?" Kara coaxed, hopefully; her arms making a circular, you-can-do-it gesture.

Alex balled up her fists, knowing the answer was only a gossamer thread's thickness away from her mind, but still too far out of reach. Again. She let out a guttural growl though clenched teeth.

"And we can't just Google it?" Barry asked, half-rhetorically.

"No, we're-" Kara began, only for Barry to finish her sentence, "-on lockdown, which is why we can't get out either."

"Seriously, DO WE HAVE NO-ONE THAT WORKS HERE WHO KNOWS WHERE SILENT RUNNING IS PLAYING?" Cisco yelled to the whole of Central Ops.

"We do. _He's at the movie_ ," Alex replied.

Cisco held his hands up in rhetorical surrender. "Okay," he said, "Any of Winn's stuff around here? Personal items? Something important to him."

Alex waved over to Winn's desk, where Felicity stood. "Any of the toys on the desk," she said.

Cisco marched over to Winn's desk, Kara following behind him.

"He prefers the term 'adult collectibles'," she corrected.

 

When fighting a well-trained opponent - to whom you cede at least two inches and thirty pounds - it's important to take advantage of the terrain.

When that opponent knows the terrain better than you, and is fighting head-to-toe in what Oliver assumed - correctly - was bullet-proof armour, it was probably better not to fight at all.

Worse, the Knight was lightning-fast for a guy bearing that much weight, and the shield - who used a shield as a weapon? - gave his long arm an even longer reach. Oliver had taken a few awkwardly placed blows, and they'd _hurt_. He imagined that the full force of it would feel like getting hit by a train. The best strategy right now would be to get out the Knight's reach, and retreat to higher ground.

But the Knight wasn't the only person he was fighting.

Oliver kicked the Knight backwards, just to put some distance between them, and he felt the bullet whistle passed his ear before he'd even heard the gunshot. The Spy - not an actual spy; although she was clearly well-trained and highly skilled, she also seemed to have limited experience against moving, living targets - stayed in position behind the trunk of the car, and took a second shot before Oliver sensibly put the Knight between himself and her sights.

There was no cover between her and him, except for the car she was positioned behind... and the Knight. If Oliver retreated, or somehow took the Knight down, then he would have to draw on her and probably kill her - in a fraction of a second with pinpoint accuracy - or he was going to get shot. But the alternative meant having to keep fighting the Knight...

"Could use a little help here, Overwatch."

 

"We're working on it, Green Arrow," Felicity replied, watching Cisco in his Vibe glasses pick up every item from Winn's desk in quick succession; muttering to himself every time it failed to produce a reaction.

"What's his status?" Alex asked.

"Well, he says he's got the Toyman pinned down-"

"You mean Winn?" Kara asked.

"Not unless Winn has a KGB assassin on payroll," Felicity answered.

" _No, she just looks like one,_ " Oliver told her over the radio.

"She just looks like one? Is she dressed like Black Widow or something?" Felicity asked him.

"She?" Alex picked up, "Can you put this on speaker?"

Felicity did as she was asked, and Alex spoke into the microphone, "Green Arrow, does this assassin have an overcoat, prim hair... like a glamorous Nurse Ratched?"

" _Affirmative,_ " Oliver said, exhausted.

"That's Lena," Kara confirmed.

J'onn finally put the phone down, and told the room, "Lockdown will be up in ninety seconds!"

Cisco, having gone through all the action figures, reached over, and picked up the Nerf gun-

_**-He found himself on a deserted street. Muffled sounds in the distance, echoes of metal colliding with metal. He looked over, and saw the Green Arrow, fighting a man dressed in black and chrome, light glaring off his shield. He looked around more, down at the car nearby, and saw the man who he recognised as the Toyman, but he knew that it wasn't. The man had the shaft of an arrow protruding from his shoulder, blood soaking his mauve shirt. The man was in pain, and he was afraid, and he was worried.** _

_**But not worried for himself.** _

_**Cisco followed the man's gaze over to the trunk of the car, where a woman knelt; pistol grasped in both hands, drawing a bead on the men fighting across the street. Half Snow White and half Wicked Queen, she seemed to glow; her coat a brilliant Sin City red against the shadow world of the vibe. Every ounce of fear the man had was for her.** _

_**Cisco looked back toward the prone man, and saw in the man's eyes what he'd felt in his own, many times; and seen even more in Barry's, whenever Iris was around.** _

_**Man, this guy was a goner.** _

_**Cisco stood, looked around for a sign of the location. He spotted the lights of the theatre, further down the street. He ran, his movements seemingly sluggish, to read the sign.** _

_**The Talon.** _

_**He could see the end of the street from here, and there, a signpost.** _

_**Ninth Street.** _

-Cisco dropped the Nerf gun, and pulled off his glasses. "Okay, so the movie was at a place called The Talon, it's on-"

"Ninth! It's on Ninth!" Alex exclaimed.

Cisco held his tongue for a moment, then carried on, "Yeah. Also, Oliver's in a fight with Sir Robocop of the Round Table."

"Rao help us," Kara said, "Green Arrow, you need to stand down, you are fighting civilians. They're friends of ours."

" _I doubt they feel the same way about me._ "

"He shot Winn," Cisco told Felicity. She rolled her eyes, not even surprised.

"Hold on, Green Arrow, we'll be there soon," Barry told him.

 

_Hold on,_ he said. Oliver had been holding on. He'd had to improvise: taking advantage of the limited peripheral vision the Knight's eye-slit allowed to stay out of his reach; while, at the same time, staying just on the edge of where the Spy was willing to take a shot at him. He would inch away from the Knight, encouraging her to pop off a shot at him, then pull back in; the limited distance between him and the Knight forcing her subconscious to aim wide - although, Oliver noticed, not as wide as he would have expected or was hoping for. But each shot used up a bullet, and once she was out - she had six left now, by his count - he'd be able to take care of the both of them.

Or, he'd get shot. It wasn't the best plan, but he only had one other; and he was saving that for a real emergency.

But he was getting tired. It had been a while since he'd been in a fight that has lasted this long, and it had taken it out of him. To make matters worse, the Knight was worn down too - with all that armour, it wasn't surprising - and Oliver guessed there was maybe five or six more parries left in the fight before one of them fell; and if it was him, Oliver had no faith that the Knight would protect him from the Spy's 9mm.

Only one plan left, then.

Oliver put all his strength into a final offensive, delivering multiple blows to the Knight's sides before delivering a roundhouse kick straight to his ribs, knocking the Knight off of his feet. As he fell, Oliver dropped to his knees, and reached back into his quiver; the bullet wound in his tricep raging as he pulled out a smoke arrow and notched it.

Another shot rang out from across the street, the bullet's wake ruffling Oliver's hood as it flew passed. _Five_ , he counted.

Oliver stood as he drew back on the bow, and loosed the arrow onto the ground next to where the Knight fell; immediately releasing thick, white smoke, hiding him the Spy's sights. He quickly notched another grappling hook, and aimed for a fire escape above, hearing another shot - thankfully, much wider this time - as he felt the long wire secure itself. _Four._

He began his ascent, and as he did so, he could see the Spy step out from behind her covered position, and raise her pistol; bullets ricocheted off of the walls around him. _Three. Two._

As he got higher, her shots would get wider. Once he was in position, she'd be easier to deal wi-

He felt something wrap around his ankle. He looked down, and saw a red laser sight burn through the smoke, alongside a length of steel wire. Oliver knew what was coming, as watched two gauntleted hand wrap themselves around the wire.

The Knight had a grappling hook, too. This was disconcerting.

"Anytime now, Flash," Oliver scowled into his microphone.

"Just fifteen more seconds, Green Arrow," Felicity replied.

The Knight put all his weight into pulling on the wire, and Oliver's arms gave way, sending him two storeys towards the ground with an awkward thud. His leg wasn't going to be happy about that tomorrow. It wasn't even happy about it now.

But there was no time to waste. His bow had continued its ascent without him, and he could see the Knight approach him with renewed vigor through the smoke. The Spy still had two shots left, but was probably saving them for when she had a clear shot. 

Oliver rolled backwards onto his feet as the Knight swung at him with his shield. He dodged another two blows, barely making out the Knight's shape in the smoke before he struck; having to guide the shield away from his body with his bare hands at the last second. He wondered how the Knight was so on target, but then he saw that the Knight's previously uncovered eyes were now blocked by a red tinted visor.

Infra-red. Oliver hadn't though much of the Knight's plan of attack, but he couldn't fault the guy for being well-prepared.

The Knight swung again, hitting Oliver square in the chest, sending him flying back through the air, to the edge of the smoke cloud.

Oliver had been right. It _did_ feel like being hit by a train.

 

Back at the DEO, the lights went back up.

"Ninth street," Barry said, before disappearing in a flash of yellow lightning.

"I should-" Kara stammered, gesturing that she should follow him.

"Go!" Felicity ordered.

And with that, Kara flew through Central Ops, and out off of the balcony.

 

James strode toward the fallen Archer, who was somehow _still_ trying to get up. James had just about had enough of this guy. _Just. Stay. Down._

James drew his shield arm up, and then brought it down on the Archer; only to find himself ten feet away from him, his arm being thrown back. As he re-oriented himself, he found The Flash, standing in front of him.

"I can't let you do this. You're making a mistake," Barry told him, as he stood between James and the Archer on the ground.

James was really confused. Why was Barry Allen here?

James and Barry were too focused on each other to notice Lena stride out toward Oliver with her arms raised, carefully take aim, and fire her last remaining bullets toward him: one at his chest, one at his head.

But Kara had.

She flew down, right to where Oliver lay; the first bullet bouncing right off of her chest. She followed the path of the second bullet with her eyes, and caught it in her hand, mere inches from Oliver's face.

"Woah... okay, stand down! EVERYBODY, STAND DOWN!" Barry commanded, not particularly impressively.

"It's okay, Ms. Luthor. You're safe," Kara followed up, as best as she could. "You okay, Oliver?" she asked him, quietly.

Oliver said nothing, just laid his head back down on the street, exhausted. In the distance, a low voice moaned from behind a car.

"if it's not too much trouble, could someone _please_ tell me why I have an arrow in me?"

 

A few minutes later, after the costumed heroes had moved on, and the sirens had come for a disturbance that was no longer there, the blue and red lights of the police cars reflected off of a pair of unknown, unnoticed, thick, round spectacles, just before they sank back into the darkness.


	4. Save Point

"How was I supposed to know?" Oliver asked, voice raised in frustration.

He held himself still - a DEO medical staffer was stitching up his arm - as Felicity brought him up to speed on what had actually happened. Normally, he would have paid more attention to someone holding sharp objects near him, but there were other things on his mind.

He was surrounded by his friends, people he had considered allies for years; but also new faces, two of whom he'd attacked not twenty minutes before. The Knight, James, who he'd learned went by the codename Guardian, had taken it all in his stride. Once he'd made sure his friend was safe, he seemed to laugh off the fight itself; which was probably easy, given that he'd been the clear winner.

The friend, on the other hand, wasn't quite so amused, and Oliver could read the room well enough to know that the others weren't at all pleased.

"It's okay, Oliver, no-one is blaming you," Kara told him.

"Uh..." Winn said, sat bolt upright on the bed, flinching whenever Alex tried to grab the arrow still sticking out of him. It wiggled in the air every time he moved.

"I think there may be a counterpoint," Felicity said, Cisco beside her, nodding in agreement.

"Only Winn is blaming you," Kara corrected herself, with barely a pause.

"Will you hold still?" Alex asked, in a tone that suggested she would happily cut the arm off instead.

Winn glared at her in response, then took a deep breath, and steadied his body in place. Alex put her hand on his shoulder - the dislocated one - to brace herself, and then moved her other hand to the arrow, ready to pull it out.

"You ready? On three. One-"

"Wait!" Winn interrupted, "You're not doing the thing where you say you'll pull it out on three, and the pull it out on one so I don't tense up, are you?"

"Would I do that?" Alex argued, facetiously.

"Well, you do kinda have a record of being-" he began; but as soon as he relaxed just a little, Alex grabbed the arrow and yanked on it as hard as she could.

Winn was surprised that he hadn't screamed.

"That was... uncalled for," he said, as Alex stemmed the bleeding, "And... no, I don't blame him; I'm just a little..."

He raised his right arm - to wave his hand to describe the ambiguity of his feelings - but had forgotten how much it would hurt.

"You know what? It's okay. You see a guy on the street, not on a date, looks just like your target, could have happened to anyone."

Alex caught his eyes with hers. _Not a date?_

Winn glared right back at her. _Don't you start._

"Is your friend going to be okay?" Oliver asked him, sincerely.

"Trimmed your flights, didn't she?" Winn replied, in a smug, that's-my-girl tone, before his brain reminded him, _NO. NO SHE'S NOT._

"Where is she now?" Iris asked.

"Barry's taking her home," Kara explained.

"She's not allowed in the building," Alex added, in a much harsher tone.

"So... why isn't he back yet?" Iris continued.

"Yeeeeaaah. She's gonna have questions," Winn answered, wincing from both where Alex was bandaging his wound, and from the dislocation on the other side.

"And you think he's stayed to answer them?" Oliver asked.

"She can be very persuasive," Winn said, thinking _Please, Barry; please don't tell her how to build a time machine._

"What's wrong with your other arm, man?" James asked, from across the room.

Kara glanced over at Winn, and peered at it with her x-ray vision. "It's dislocated," she said, and took a step forward, before Winn raised up the arm to stop her.

"Nonononono, not you," he protested.

"Winn, it's got to be set back into place," Alex said.

"But we don't need _Kryptonian_ strength for that. I like both my arms attached, thank you," Winn pointed toward Felicity, "Ms. Smoak, do you mind?"

Felicity approached him, with a certain amount of caution, "Okay. What do I...?"

"Right hand on his wrist, left on his tricep," Oliver instructed, with the voice of experience.

Felicity nodded, and followed Oliver's instructions precisely, Winn raising his arm as necessary. "Very nice arrow-related punning, by the way," she told him.

"Well, I learned from the best. I'm a big fan. Have all your books," Winn replied.

"I have books?" she asked, surprised; both of Winn, and the room in general.

"Nice," Cisco congratulated her.

"Okay, on _three_ this time," Winn said, side-eyeing Alex. "One, Two-"

"Where did you train?" Oliver asked James, as Felicity pulled on Winn's arm. Winn screamed like a startled cat. James ignored him.

"Piero No Kutsu Dojo, in Metropolis. Got my black belt there. They're pretty good. You?"

Oliver took his loss to James pretty well, under the circumstances.

"Two years on the island of Lian Yu in the South China Sea, two years as an undercover operative for Argus, one year as a captain in the Russian Bratva, and two months as the leader of the League of Assassins."

"Sounds intense," James offered, with a grin.

Oliver took a deep breath. "Yes."

"So, what did he do?" Winn asked.

"Who?" Kara asked.

"The Toyman."

"Winn..." she protested.

"What. Did. He. Do?" Winn repeated, firmly.

Felicity went through it all, much as she had done before.

"Okay, so what set him off?" Winn asked, calmly.

The question hung in the air for a moment, before Felicity answered.

"In two thousand and thirteen, Slingshot toys fell onto hard times, got bought out by Marbro. Apparently, he felt that was being... disrespectful to his work."

"Just another 'tortured genius' using it as an excuse to be an asshole," Iris said.

"He wasn't wrong, though," Cisco said, and Iris turned to him in disbelief. "He wasn't! I got a whole bunch of pre-buyout Slingshot stuff at home. There was cutting edge stuff in there, and I don't just mean for toys. I don't know why people didn't buy 'em."

"Star Wars and video games," Winn answered, quickly, and with authority.

"Huh?"

"Mid-seventies, maybe 1 in 10 toys sold was licenced from a TV show or a movie or whatever. By the mid-eighties they almost all were. Star Wars did that. And what with video games reducing demand overall..."

"You seem to have thought about this a lot," Iris said.

"I've spent eighteen years thinking about this," Winn replied, before addressing the rest of the group, "So what now?"

"Now, we come up with a plan; try to determine where he could be hiding... or who his next target is..." Oliver said.

"Well, you talked about Marbro? They exist here." Winn said.

"You think he'll try to go after the same guy? This is a different Earth, Martell from this Earth had nothing to do with it," Cisco told him.

"I don't think the logic has to make sense to outside observers," Winn explained, "Besides, I'm not even sure how much I am one."

"Wouldn't he just breach over to another Earth?" Iris asked.

Winn thought for a moment. "No. He only left Earth-1 because there was no reason for him to stay there; his..." Winn paused, then spat out the word, "...'Injustice' had been rectified."

"It's a start. We'll get to work finding Mr. Martell in the morning," J'onn said, "In the mean time, I think we should all get some sleep."

"In the morning? So... I'm not suspended anymore?" Winn asked, hopefully, as Alex finished up fitting his wounded, bandaged arm into a sling.

J'onn answered, already regretting his decision, "Well, under the circumstances, I'm not entirely certain it's safe for you to leave the premises; but, yes, for the duration of this emergency, your suspension is lifted-"

_Oh, praise Jesus._ Winn thought.

"-to be reinstated as soon as the situation is over."

"Of course. Absolutely. I completely understand," Winn said. Then he turned to Kara, and shook his head theatrically, which she met with nod in solidarity.

He turned back to Felicity. "So, you guys wanna see my lab?" he asked of both her and Cisco.

"Yes. Secret government alien lab. Yes." Cisco said, enthusiastically.

Winn hopped off the bed. "Then let's go."

"Wait, I haven't done your dislocated shoulder yet," Alex said, second sling in hand.

"It's like the sixth time it's happened to me, it'll be fine," he replied, before motioning to Cisco and Felicity to follow him as he bounded out the door. Cisco followed immediately, but Felicity sauntered, trying - and failing - to look like she wasn't eager to join them.

"I'd best- you know, so they don't get themselves in trouble-" she told Oliver, who tried to stifle a grin, "so... yeah."

"You should go. They clearly need an adult," Oliver joked, as much as he ever did.

"And you would know, so I'm just gonna..." she grabbed Iris's hand on the way out, and they ran to catch up with the boys; Iris not quite so enthusiastically.

Once he was sure they were out of earshot, Oliver spoke again, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," James told him, confidently; a statement undermined by Kara's simultaneous, contradictory, "No."

James looked over to her, inquisitive; she continued, "He's never fine with it. And this... this is basically his worst nightmare. But he'd never tell us, either."

Oliver nodded, recognising his own behavior, "What about Martell? You think he's the best lead?"

"I do. Agent Schott may be distracted, but he's still one of our best analysts," J'onn told him, "We'll bring Mr. Martell into protective custody as soon as we can."

"My advice? Don't."

"You've not exactly demonstrated the best instincts in this area," Alex said.

"I understand, and I'm sorry about that. I was sure Winn was the right target, and had no reason to think otherwise. But leaving Martell in the open may be the best way to draw the Toyman out," Oliver explained.

"You wanna use him as bait?" James protested.

"No, it's too dangerous," Kara chimed in.

"It maybe more dangerous if we don't. So far, the Toyman's outsmarted me, Felicity, and the whole of Star Labs. I didn't even question it when a armour-plated giant showed up-" Oliver continued, motioning to James, "-Because, quite frankly, it's not the weirdest thing he's thrown up against us. I don't know if we're going to be able to track him down any other way."

"He may be right," Alex said, turning to her boss. "It's your call."

J'onn mulled it over. "We need to find him first. I'll make my decision then. Everyone get some sleep."

The meeting broke up, Kara heading over to Oliver as he put on a DEO shirt. "There's cots next to the training area, if you guys haven't found a hotel yet-"

"Mr. Queen?" J'onn interrupted.

Oliver and Kara turned back to him, and he carried on, "Agent Schott may be fine with what happened here tonight. I'm not. I allow Mr. Olsen's escapades to carry on because he isn't doing things like firing arrows into the street at unarmed civilians."

"Do you really 'fire' arrows?" Kara asked, earnestly.

"I suspect that would be besides the point," Oliver said.

"I just want to make sure you understand who's in command of this operation," J'onn continued.

"I do, sir." Oliver said, honestly.

"Good. Because if you do something like that again, Mr. Olsen will be the least of your problems."


	5. No Judgements Here

Lena was worried about him. It was her fury that gave it away.

" _What do you mean, 'he's a friend'? HE SHOT YOU!_ "

"Well, you shot him, so it all worked out in the end, " Winn reassured her, "I'm patched up now, he's patched up now, I am _fine_ ; so, please, can we have our speedster back now?"

Felicity, Cisco and Iris waited impatiently outside the Spare Oom, as Winn struggled with wielding his pass and soothing the angry aristocrat. Eventually, Iris snatched the pass out of his hand, and unlocked the door.

" _Are you referring to the genius that's trying to tell me the energy that makes up superstrings is sentient?_ " she replied; almost whispering, so Barry couldn't hear, but clearly contemptuous.

"That's the one."

Winn pulled the phone away from his ear long enough to swipe the light switches as he came in, sighing "Dammit, Barry," as he did so.

"Problem?" Felicity interjected, before coming to an abrupt halt, as she walked straight into the back of Cisco.

"He's telling her about the Speed Force," Winn explained, before bringing the phone back to his ear; but by then, Felicity wasn't listening. She and Cisco were both staring agape at the transmat portal that dominated the room.

"Holy Stargate..." Cisco exclaimed, before he and Felicity hurried over to it to get a closer look, Iris sauntering behind.

" _It's not like I'm holding him prisoner or anything, it's just... are you sure you can trust these people?_ " Lena asked, defiant. Winn blushed, from pride and shame in equal measure. She was trying to protect him.

"I am," Winn said, before trying to return the favour, "Look, I'm gonna be on... not radio silence, exactly, but I won't be initiating contact for the next few days."

Her tone switched the moment she sensed he was trying to sneak something passed her. " _Really? Are you avoiding finishing our conversation?_ " He could _hear_ the damn Eyebrow from here, and his heart fell just as much as it had risen a few moments before.

And the worst thing was... she was right. But it wasn't at the top of his priority list right now.

"Seriously, you want to talk, _you_ have to call _me_. If I call you, or show up at your office, you need to call Alex right away," he said. He had no idea how to protect her from an evil parallel-universe doppelganger of himself, or even if he needed to, but this seemed the best call.

" _What aren't you telling me?_ " she asked incisively. Winn considered the inconvenient question, as he watched the others have an excited discussion around the transmat portal. They seemed to be having fun.

"It's classified. What do you do if I contact you?" he said, with what he hoped was professional confidence.

There was a few seconds of silence before she answered, grudgingly, " _I call Alex._ "

"Good. Now let The Flash go, okay? He doesn't deserve what you're putting him through," he joked. A little more levity crept into her voice.

" _I will. Be careful._ "

"Always," he signed off, before hanging up. He took a moment to compose himself, then clapped his hands together, and announced, "Right! May I present to you..." before realising the moment for a dramatic reveal had long since passed, so finished quietly, "project Ward Robe."

"Barry on his way?" Iris asked.

"Finally," Winn answered, taking in the smorgasbord of half-finished projects he'd left behind three weeks before.

Work. Beautiful, _distracting_ work.

"Okay, but this does what I think it does, right? Opens a wormhole to other planets?" Cisco asked.

Once the immediate crisis was over, it'd be weeks before he would have to think about anything else. Hell, If it meant he could avoid finishing answering Lena's question from... was it really less than half an hour ago?... he probably wouldn't leave until he'd solved cold fusion.

He'd have Kara feed Jadzia, it'd be fine.

"Can we go somewhere? I mean, we'll probably get in trouble if we did, but... can we?" Felicity asked, unable to stand still.

Winn was only half paying attention. _What to do first?_ he wondered. _Aha..._

"No. Well, yeah. Kinda. Depends on how you feel about spiders of unusual size," Winn said, as he walked over to the space pistol, laid down on the bench, right where he left it.

"And you, my little friend, have a date with a precision screwdriver," he told the soon-to-be-dismantled weapon.

"Not all that great. How... unusual, exactly?" Felicity continued, following him.

"About the size of this room?" Winn answered. All three visitors looked up at the cavernous ceiling.

"Maybe not, then," she said, forelorn.

"So!" Cisco interjected, "That was Lena on the phone? The girl you went to the movies with?"

"Yeah, she was worried about me," Winn said, as his mind rebelled against someone trying to describe Lena as merely a 'girl', "It's not every day you get impaled, you know- what?"

Cisco cocked his head, and simply said, "Dude."

Winn devised Cisco's meaning straight away, but was in no rush to face his judgement. He'd been through too much tonight already.

Instead, he feigned innocence. "I don't...?"

"Dude," Cisco repeated, undeterred, "C'mon."

Winn could feel the blush rising in his cheeks. "I'm her friend, it's not weird for her to be worried about me-"

Cisco raised his voice, exasperated, "I saw it when I vibed you, man; I know how you feel about her."

"Is this the woman you were on a date with?" Felicity interrupted, thumbing through the paperback copy of _Information of Freedom: A Hacktivist Manifesto_ by Felicity M. Smoak that she'd pulled off of the nearby bookshelf.

"It wasn't a date," Winn reassured her; with hopeful, but utterly false sincerity.

"Yeah. They're just friends," Cisco added, sarcastically.

Felicity saw Cisco's expression, turned back to see Winn's embarrassment; and said, full of empathy, "Duuude."

"I take it they're not just friends?" Iris asked, rhetorically, to which Cisco shook his head in response.

"Right. And do you plan on telling her about this development in your relationship?" Felicity asked.

"You know, I get what you're getting at, but I don't think you're in a position to judge me on this," Winn said, before turning back to Cisco, "You neither."

He turned to Iris, thought about if for a second, then said, "You're probably fine. Judge away."

Felicity held up her arms in mock-surrender, book still in hand, "No judging. But... you asked her to go see a movie like _Silent Running_ , and she said yes. What exactly do you still have to be afraid of?"

Winn struggled to find an answer free of self-pity. "I didn't really ask her, she kinda just... volunteered."

"She volunteered?" Iris asked, incredulously, "If she's willing to do that, I'd think about skipping right to the engagement ring."

The three nerds stared at her, Felicity more visibly offended than the boys.

"What? I grew up with Barry. I have seen many movies," she said, making it clear that she had no intention of seeing said movies ever again. Her eyes caught on the book Felicity was holding, and asked, "Is that your book?"

"One of many," Felicity replied, "Turns out Felicity-38 never grew out of her goth phase."

"Yeah, she's kinda intense in the Felicity books. The F. M. Smoaks are the coding manuals."

Felicity put her current book down, and scanned the shelves again - doing a double take, Winn noticed, over Michael Rory's _Pyromancer_ series - as Barry poked his head though the open door, still in his Flash gear.

"Hey?" he said, not really sure if he was in the right room.

"Where have you been?" Iris asked.

"I kinda got... held up," Barry replied, turning to Winn, "Does she always make you feel like you should curtsy?"

"She's comfortable in authority, no doubt about it. Just... tell me you didn't tell her how to build a time machine? 'Cause, you know, I can't have velociraptors running down Main Street, man. Not even one of the herbivores."

"Is... that... likely?" Barry asked, visibly going over what he'd told her in his mind.

Winn thought back to the _last_ time Lena had gotten a head-start on advanced technology, and simply stated, "It's a risk."

"Guys, you will not believe this," Felicity interrupted, holding up a book with a large, 19th century engraved illustration of a mandril, "I have my very own coding book with a picture of an animal on the cover!" She popped herself onto the bench, and started to flick through it.

"Nice!" Barry yelled over, before turning back to Winn to tell him, "Nah, I think we're fine," and breaking into a big grin. "How you doing, Winn? You okay?" he continued, trying to work out how to give Winn a hug without hurting him more.

Winn held up his - for want of a better term - good arm, to put an end to Barry's awkwardness, and they embraced. "No major damage. I'm okay. You?"

Barry grin , a little embarrassed about how okay he really was, "I'm doing pretty well, actually." His eyes rested, as everyone else's had, on the transmat portal.

"Is that a Stargate?" he asked, excited, "Do you go to alien planets?"

Cisco and Felicity answered "No!" in disappointed unison. Barry grunted in confusion.

"Giant spiders," Iris explained, helpfully.

"Oh, okay," Barry reluctantly accepted.

"So, you two really got along while Barry was here?" Iris asked.

"Dynamic Duo! Yeah, we pretty much bonded over our shared love science, and, you know, of pining for... certain people," Winn tried not to over-explain. He'd been a little skeptical of Barry's crush on Iris - throughout his teen years, Child Services had made it pretty clear to Winn that any girls he might happen to get placed with were strictly Out Of Bounds - but now he'd met her, he couldn't say that he didn't get it.

"Yeah, that's pretty much why things are going so well," Barry said, looking over to Iris, who held up her left hand.

"Oh, come on!" Winn said as he saw the solitare, "We couldn't have stood together on this? You know, a little nerd solidarity?"

As their expressions dropped, Winn burst into a big smile.

"I'm kidding! Come on, I'm kidding. Congratulations to you both," he said.

"Well, you're not doing too badly; you know? You were out on a date tonight-"

"Not a date!" spoke the nerd chorus in the back. Winn deflated.

"Not a-?" Barry began, before cottoning on to Winn's situation. "Duuuuuuuuude," he said, disappointed.

Winn threw up his arms. "Can people please stop saying that?"

"You know, it is possible just to tell a girl that you like her..." Barry said.

"Okay, you're _definitely_ in no position to judge," Felicity countered.

"You know what I'm saying! Winn, you did the big long-term crush that went nowhere," Barry explained, "We've all done it; it's nothing to be ashamed of. But this is your chance to go after something _real_. Why wouldn't you take it?"

"You know, I've had a lot of these thoughts myself over the past few weeks," Winn said, before addressing the whole room, "But really, great brainstorming session, guys; I appreciate all your input. It's been very valuable."

Winn turned back to Barry. His embarrassment was being overtaken by an anger he wasn't at all comfortable with.

"Oh, and, by the way, Barry, I actually did move onto something real? And it was wonderful, and it was horrible, and I'm not really sure how to feel about it now; and I was really hoping I wouldn't have to deal with feelings like this quite so soon after it ended, okay?"

Barry threw up his arms in defence. Winn knew, from an intellectual perspective, he had crossed a line. Barry was only trying to be a friend. They all were. Cisco, Felicity, Iris; they didn't know him at all, but they were all trying to be good friends to him, just the same. Winn ought to be grateful. Part of him was.

But he didn't know how to make the rage subside. He almost never did. So, Winn did what he had always done; put a lid on the anger, put a smile on his face, and hope that it would all go away on its own.

"Sorry," he told Barry, making the mistake of raising his bandaged arm as evidence, "I've... had a rough night."

"Winn?" Iris began, tentatively, "Can I offer some advice?"

"I kinda get the feeling you don't usually ask permission," Winn replied.

"You're not wrong," Iris admitted, matter-of-factly, "No offense, when I came here, I was kind of hoping I'd get to go to a universe where I _didn't_ have to give a dweeby white guy a pep talk."

She flicked a playful, knowing look Barry's way, which he met with mock offense.

"You know, if you want, this can still be that universe. It's not too late," Winn said, trying to find his smile.

"But whatever feelings you have for this woman aren't going to go away just because you want them to," Iris said, "I mean, how long have you had them?"

"Well..." Winn began; the embarrassment fighting the anger for control once more, while he pretended he was going through neither, "I've _known_ about them for the past few weeks."

"Snuck up on you, huh?" Felicity said, eager for details, "What was the magic moment?"

"There wasn't a 'magic moment', exactly," Winn explained, making air quotes as he said it, "She made me a job offer for a quarter-mil a year, I turned it down; and then I was just standing there in the street, singing the theme song from _The Spy Who Loved Me_ as her car pulled away-"

" _You sang to her in public?_ " Iris asked, in a that-is-SO-cute tone, as she crossed the room to be nearer to Felicity and Cisco.

"I'd say a lot more to unpack about that sentence than just the singing," Cisco added.

Felicity chimed in, "Yeah, is this secret agent thing a common misconception people have about her?"

"Never mind the singing; did you say a _quarter of a million dollars_?" Barry asked as he joined his fiancée.

"Okay," Winn began, as he faced the quartet's interrogation, "the song made sense as part of a much broader context, and it seemed like something I should do at the time. Now, the job offer, that was just business. I'd proved myself capable in the six weeks we'd known each other; okay, the salary's a little more generous than I would have-

"Whoa-wo-wo-wo-wo... Six weeks?" Cisco interrupted, "That's insane! You can't get friendzoned in six weeks!"

"Can you... I don't know... not use that word?" Winn said, "I mean, I've used it before, and it's a useful shorthand for what's going on; but I've been doing some reading recently, and apparently codifying it as a concept isn't helpful-"

" _Six weeks!_ " Cisco repeated, pointedly.

"It was work-related, it's kind of hard to explain," Winn said, adding anxiety to his confluence of feelings. It was hard not to feel attacked.

"Sooooo... between the time you worked together, and the time you've had feelings for her..." Barry said, "You've known her for about... two months?" Iris's scrunched up as he said it, as though she couldn't quite work out what to say next. Felicity, on the other hand, clearly had a much firmer idea of how to respond, but had elected to bite her tongue.

"Well... I mean, we first met last November, but, yeah, that's pretty much-"

" _HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS IS NORMAL?_ " Felicity spat out with a fury, before immediately calming herself, "Sorry. Sorry. That was uncalled for, there's no judgement here, we all have... complex experiences within this arena."

"I don't." Cisco countered.

"One time a girl dumped you because she'd been reunited with her re-incarnated Egyptian lover and then sprouted wings," Felicity replied.

Cisco's face gave nothing away.

"...That was mutual."

"I know it _sounds_ simple, guys," Winn began; knowing well enough that if he finished his sentence, he would need an explanation for it, and knowing even better that he didn't have one, "but... it's-"

"Complicated? Sure," Iris said, "I get it. We all get it. You've clearly been through something, and I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it."

Winn screwed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. No, he did not want to talk about _that_.

She carried on, "But Felicity's right; developing feelings for someone over the timescale you're talking about isn't at all unusual, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of. And no matter how insurmountable you feel that this is, it's not. I mean... she respects you? Enjoys your company? If Oliver's arm is anything to go by, she clearly cares a lot about you... Is any of this getting through?"

Winn wanted to believe, he really did. Lovers or not, he envied Barry for having someone like Iris in his life. Winn wanted to believe in himself, just so he wouldn't disappoint her.

But disappoint her he must.

Winn sidled over to a bench on the next wall, sat below a shelf full of box-files. "Yeah, I'm listening. I just need to..."

His voice trailed off, searching the shelf as Iris continued, wary that she did not have his full attention.

"Good. Because... no matter how scary it feels... the longer you leave it, the worse it's going to be, until one day... it really will be too late..."

Winn took one of the box-files off the shelf, opened it up, and rifled through the back issues of Catco Magazine, each one bookmarked with a neon rainbow of post-it labels - nice ideas he'd seen, styles he wanted to recreate - until-.

_Yes. There you are._

He pulled it from the pile, left the box on the desk, and took it over to Iris.

"What's this?" she asked.

He held it out to her, cover first, "This is Lena."

Iris paused as she took in the March 2017 edition of Catco Magazine, Lena Luthor staring right back at her from the cover. She opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by an astonished Felicity snatched the magazine out of Winn's hands for a better view, before exclaiming, "Holy crap!"

"Oh, yeah," Barry said in embarrassed agreement, causing Iris to forget the magazine for the moment and glare.

"Hey," Cisco said in response, "We all saw your eyes on shirtless Oliver a few minutes ago. No claiming the higher ground here."

"Seriously?" Felicity asked, before looking back down at the cover thoughtfully and saying, "'Cause the Russian spy thing's actually beginning to make a lot more sense now."

"So... she's a... model?" Iris asked; almost sure the answer would be no, and kind of dreading it.

"No, she's the CEO of a blue-chip tech company. One-sixty-seven IQ... Masters in Engineering from MIT at twenty one..." Winn paused, reminding himself of her resume. Somehow, he doubted she'd ever typed one.

"Under-Fourteens chess champion, Olympic athlete... basically pathologically driven to be the best that humanity has to offer," he finished, before "Oh, and you know how there's ten people whose wealth is greater than the rest of the world combined? She's one of them."

"Wait, she's _one of the ten people_?" Cisco asked, wide-eyed.

"Well, if she's not, she's a real high scorer for Team Poorhouse," Winn replied.

"What do you mean by 'pathologically driven'?" Iris nettled, "A woman can't just have ambition?"

"Ambition is fine, but there's a complex family issue there; a lot of it's to spite her mother. Or impress her, I'm never sure. Possibly both."

"Is this..." Felicity inquired, still examining the magazine cover, "... _very_ photoshopped? It seems very photoshopped."

"Yeah, they desaturated a lot of the colours, the lighting's all weird... it's not a great one of her," Winn answered, making a mental note to ask the award-winning photographer that signed off on it why he'd done it.

"So... these green eyes that can penetrate your very soul; they're actually _more_ pronounced in person?"

"Oh, yeah." Barry repeated. Iris's glare was less intense than it was the first time he'd said it, but intense enough that saying it a third time would be a bad idea.

"So..." Iris continued, "The ambition isn't the problem... but, is it? Like... are you worried that you're not ambitious enough for her? You don't feel like you measure up to men she usually dates?"

"Maybe..." Winn replied. Maybe that _was_ it. It wasn't like Winn was ever gonna fit in to the Luthor social circle, such as it was. He barely belonged to his own.

"Well, what do you really know about them?" she asked.

"Well, her last boyfriend was the head of a tech start-up. She used to work with him in R&D before she left to take over the family business. They did some great stuff while she was there, too; they developed medical nanites as a cure of cancer," Winn explained.

"They..." Iris began, the earnest confidence she's been speaking with draining out of her voice, "... _cured_... cancer?"

"Ahhhh... Not exactly. After she left to run L-Corp, he tested the nanites on himself, and accidentally turned himself into a remote controlled murder swarm. It was a whole thing. In the end, she had to... 'deactivate' him to put him out of his misery," Winn told her, not nearly as solemnly as he should, "Although, interestingly, when he died, he was cancer-free."

"Did he have cancer before?" Cisco asked, "'Cause if he didn't have cancer before, I'm not sure that it counts."

"...I will check."

"And how long ago was this?" Iris asked.

"About three months ago," Winn said. Now he was explaining it all, it was even worse.

"Oh," she said, grasping at straws now, "Was he like a... casual boyfr-"

"I believe 'the love of her life' is how she's described him." Winn was starting to wish Oliver had just killed him.

Iris also looked like she was ready to join the death cult. "Right. Of course. So, even if she was willing to date someone as..."

- _Pick your words carefully, Miss West_ -

"...you, she's probably not going to be looking for that kind of relationship right now?"

"I hadn't really thought of it like that until just now, but... yeah," he said, emptily.

Iris looked at him, sympathy in her eyes.

"And you really like her?"

Winn nodded, his years of experience of not crying in front of people being put to good use. Iris didn't seem know how to continue, but Winn could feel she was holding back.

He didn't know what he needed, but her pity wasn't it.

"You can say it," he told her, reassuringly.

" _Duuuuuuuuude_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was supposed to be fun to write, but then it completely kicked my ass for weeks. I'm not entirely sure it's even necessary, and I'm not exactly happy with it; but, at some point, you just have to stop writing. 
> 
> As always, comments are welcome.


	6. Hard-Boiled and Scrambled

Early morning call outs were the worst. At least this one wouldn't have a body at the end of it.

Maggie had gotten the call at 5:52. Alex slept through the call, God knows when she got in last night. Captain told her to head out to the Holiday Inn near the airport. Some bigwig got an 'upsetting' letter, and the department wanted to make sure they put some detectives in front of him.

She wasn't worried. Probably nothing.

But it was just so damn _early_.

McConnell was already there when she arrived, eating... something she'd rather not think about.

"D'ya hear what happened last night?" he mumbled, mouth full of scrambled egg.

"No." she said, dismissively.

He ignored her tone, carrying on as they entered the lobby, "Got so many assholes now, they're fightin' each other. This one had a bow and arrow, tried to take out the Guardian."

"How'd he do?" she asked, with false indifference. She liked Guardian. Most of the department did. After all, he usually left evidence. Cops like evidence.

But knowing his real identity made things awkward around people that didn't.

"Guardian win by TKO. Bluebird had to break it up, I heard."

"Robin Hood in custody?" she asked.

"Nah. They were all gone before unis got there," he said, as the elevator door opened, "Third floor."

Maggie rolled her eyes at him.

"Why, of course, sir," she replied, facetiously, as she pressed the button.

 

"It was pushed underneath the door. I found it this morning," said the middle-aged, moustached man, as he tried to hand the letter to her.

"Put it down on the table, sir," Maggie instructed him, snapping on her evidence gloves. CSI was on for a decade, geniuses. Why are you still touching the evidence?

He did as he was told. He sat back on the bed, next to the distraught red-head; at least ten, maybe fifteen years his junior. She pressed her head into his neck, and he soothed her, quietly.

Maggie contained her pity. Poor girl. It was very clear the man cared about her; but it was also very clear that she wasn't his wife, and never would be. Christ, he was still wearing his damn wedding ring.

"Any reason someone might have a grudge against you, Mr. Martell?" McConnell asked him, pointedly.

"Like who?" the red-head asked.

"Oh, I don't know? Like his wife?" Maggie argued, sarcastically.

"Did she come back from the dead?" The red-head spat back.

Martell released her, hand raised for her to stop, clearly pained from the memories she'd invoked. Man. Somehow, Maggie felt even worse for her now. Martell stood, addressing the detectives.

"Judith passed away last year, pancreatic cancer. I assure you, there is nothing untoward here," he said, gesturing toward the red-head.

_Except, in your mind, you're still married_ , Maggie thought.

"You and your wife have children?" she pressed on.

"Charlie's not even ten. And he loves Deborah, he would never upset her like this. And he certainly doesn't know about the Toyman."

"The Toyman? Haven't heard that name in a couple o' years," McConnell said, absently.

"Who's the Toyman?" Maggie asked. Martell looked at her, confused about how she didn't know.

"The man who signed the letter," Martell said.

"He _signed_ it?" she asked, picking it up off the table at last.

Martell continued as she looked over the otherwise standard issue death threat, "Something of an industry legend. A tragedy, really. There's still a memorial in the trade press, every year."

She ignored the rest of it, as she stared at the clear signature at the bottom. McConnell walked up behind her, peering at it.

"That the kid you brought in about the Van Gogh?"

Crap.

"I'll look into it."

 

Alex told her to meet them at Tom's. Maggie wasn't a fan, but the All-You-Can-Eat Breakfast Buffet was popular with DEO; it was a block away, and Special-Forces trained agents out on mission all night had big appetites. Management didn't like Kara much - there wasn't an all-you-can-eat place in the _city_ that didn't have her on their watch-list - but she always brought at least a half-dozen people in with her, so why turn her away?

A lot of new faces here. Too many, really. But she was only looking for one...

"Hey!" Kara derailed her train of thought as she passed, plate in each hand; one piled much, much higher than the other, "Maggie's here!"

Alex jumped up, still chewing, to greet her. Mumbled, carb-heavy greetings hailed from the table.

"Hey, you," Alex said, kissing her hello. "You want some food?" she asked, gesturing Maggie to sit.

"Not right now," Maggie told her. Tom's wasn't exactly vegan-friendly; the only thing that didn't have butter was the coffee. Besides, she had other things on her mind.

She walked around the table to the empty seat; next to a tall, skinny guy whose plate was going to make the management rethink their Kara Danvers policy.

"I gotta-" Maggie stopped as she saw what her fiancee was eating.

"And... how much bacon you planning on having?" Maggie inquired. They'd talked about this.

Alex pulled one of the twelve strips of bacon off of her single pancake. "All of it," she replied, looking Maggie dead in the eye as she shoved half of it in her mouth, "Possibly more."

" _Mujer de mi corazón_ ," said some cocky, long-haired asshole on the other side of the skinny guy's plate.

"Guess again, Skippy," she informed him. He smiled wide, and raised his early morning soda to her in salute.

"Cisco Ramon," he said, "This is Barry; that's Iris."

The skinny guy looked up, and gave a muted "Mmm," but kept chewing, joylessly, refilling his fork like it was a curse. The pretty girl opposite maintained her patience.

"Please forgive him; at home he's usually done in under ten seconds," she said, cradling her coffee.

Maggie sat, turning back to Alex, "You know, the pigs; the ones they kill to make your bacon-"

"No! No! No vegan talk, not in my church!" Winn yelled from the end of the table, in between Kara and a big guy she didn't know, whose breakfast was being disturbed by Winn's pointing arm.

Kara pulled Winn's plate over to her as he spoke, and started to cut up his waffles for him. When Maggie saw _why_ Kara was doing that...

"What happened to you?" she asked, taking her seat.

"Arrow," a woman's voice said, matter-of-factly, from the other side of Cisco.

"It's fine," Winn declared. He turned back to the woman, and reassured the whole table, "It's fine."

"An arrow? Robin Hood shot you?" Maggie snorted. Her question was met with a collection of affirming nods. "That why Guardian kicked his ass?"

The big guy next to Winn put down his cutlery, harder than he meant to.

"The subject has been discussed once or twice this morning," Iris chortled.

"Well, the thing about Guardian is, he's just so _strong_ -" the woman said, focused on the big guy; much to the amusement of the other new faces. She was cute; looked a lot like Kara, but a little more angular in the face. She continued, "-And so _handsome_ , and he's, like, such an _amazing_ strategist-"

"Hey," Winn said, pointing a loaded fork at her, ignoring the big guy's silent rage, "I know we're all joking around here, but don't say that stuff like that in front of him. He'll believe that. And, you know, he once tried to fight a lightning meta while wearing a suit made entirely of metal, so-"

"Didn't you... _tell_ him to do that?" Kara added.

Winn put the fork in his mouth, then said, mouth full of waffle, "We all... learn by doing. Besides, that was the second time. First time was all him."

"Well, at least they got the asshole that shot you," Maggie said.

"I'm the asshole that shot him," the big guy replied to her, softly. Not defensive. Not apologetic. Apparently, shooting people with arrows was just a thing he happened to do.

It was not a thing cops got told about very often.

"...Kay," she said, turning back to Winn, "Anyway, Winn, I gotta talk to you about something."

Winn eyed her suspiciously, "Is it something that can wait until after breakfast?"

"You know a guy named Bill Martell?" she asked.

"Then yes, it can wait," Winn replied, suddenly focused on his waffle pieces. Maggie felt the table tense.

"What happened?" the big guy asked.

"After breakfast," Winn said, as he carried on eating. Was he... was he giving an order? When did he start doing that?

"Martell is our one lead-" the big guy began arguing.

"After. Breakfast." Winn repeated his command. Maggie looked to Alex, hoping for some kind of explanation; but all she got was a _DON'T ASK_ stare in response.

"He got a death threat. Signed Winslow Schott." she told them.

"He's in the city?" Iris asked, as the big guy pushed himself away from his half-finished plate and stood up.

"And the Toyman's found him," he said, "We need to be ready."

"And we will be, but _after breakfast_ ," Winn said, very deliberately.

"Yeah, maybe we shouldn't be rushing in, what with all the success we had with that last night," Not-Kara remarked.

"But if he's a target," Barry said, in a rare chewing break, "We should get him somewhere safe."

"Felicity, does your Toyman leave threats?" Winn asked, casually; still munching away.

"Not so far, no," Not-Kara replied.

"Dad wouldn't either. Don't leave a message when you can send one."

Maggie couldn't focus. Learning that a friend - a family member, even - had more hardcore issues with his parents than she did was difficult enough on it's own. But there was definitely part of this discussion she wasn't in on.

"So this threat isn't real? I thought he was going after Martell?" Iris asked.

"So did I. But an open threat? That was for our benefit, which changes things," Winn paused, before adding quietly, " _My_ benefit."

"Which means..." he said, addressing the whole table once more, "We have time. So, we will _finish our breakfasts,_ as people do in civilised universes." His announcement concluded, Winn returned his attention to his plate.

Maggie got the attention of the nearest waitress.

"Yeah. I'm gonna need coffee."

 

The coffee didn't help.

"So, a Winslow Schott that's not you, or your Dad, but a parallel Earth version of you with your Dad's personality; left a death threat for the _this_ Earth version of the guy that screwed him over because he knows that you, the this-Earth version of himself, have teamed up with the superheroes of _his_ Earth, and he's letting you know that he knows you know what he's thinking?"

"Aliens seem so much simpler now, huh?" Felicity joked, sitting on Winn's desk back at the DEO, "You know, they show up, they go 'RAR!", Supergirl beats them down, they... go...away..."

Maggie watched Felicity tried to crawl into herself as she was stared into silence. "Winn. Talk to your friend."

"Yeah, we don't talk about off-worlders like... that," Winn said, as diplomatically as he could, "Planet Earth's pretty much a meteorologically unstable, super-volcanic death-world that's covered in spiders. No-one comes here unless they have to. Those that do, a lot of them are refugees, fleeing persecution, wars..."

"Oh. Right," Felicity said to him, before turning to Maggie, "Sorry."

There was a pause, and Maggie just _knew_ what was coming next-

"Are you a-" Maggie didn't even wait for Felicity to finish before rolling her eyes.

"Ok, I should just... stop talking now," Felicity said.

Winn gestured that maybe that was the best option, then turned back to Maggie, "Yeah, you pretty much have it covered."

"So the question is, what do we do now?" J'onn asked the assembled group, "Last night, you thought Mr. Martell was in danger, Agent Schott. Do you still believe that?"

Maggie observed everyone watch Winn consider his answer carefully. Was this really how they were going to do this? Following Winn's lead?

_Winn?_

"If we do nothing, yes. But I don't know what we should do to prevent that."

"Protective custody," Oliver said, decisively. " _Very public_ protective custody."

"You want to use him as bait?" Maggie asked, and Oliver... didn't roll his eyes, but had definitely gotten tired of answering the question.

"What I _want_ is for the Toyman to come out into the open. This would seem to be the best way to do that. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked Winn.

"I'm not... there's something missing-" Winn said, not really listening.

"And who's going to protect the cops that move Martell and his girlfriend? You?"

"Mags? Maybe you should just-" Alex began, in the voice she used at home when she knew a fight was coming.

"No, I wanna know!" Maggie turned to Cisco, "Skippy? How many cops has the Toyman taken out?"

"More than you would consider ideal." he replied.

She re-addressed Oliver. "Right. So, are you gonna protect them?"

"Of course we will," Kara stepped in.

"Not asking you, Kara; asking him. Or have you forgotten Winn's puncture wound?"

"What if it wasn't the police?" Iris said, "You've got a lot of agents here. Why not use them?"

"Pose as cops? That could work," Alex said.

"I'd still have to be there. Escort him. Which my Captain will _love_ ," Maggie replied.

"Okay," Winn said, still going over the plan in his mind, "But how do we make it public?

"Well, I'm a reporter; maybe I could get something out to the local press..." Iris began.

"Or perhaps to a global multi-platform media empire?" Kara continued.

"Even better," Iris replied.

"It's have to be subtle though. Loud enough that he'll see it, but quiet enough that it's not an obvious trap," Oliver told them.

"We know, Oliver. We can do that," Kara confirmed.

"Very well. Kara will take Ms. West over to Catco to show the Toyman the carrot; the rest of us prepare the stick," J'onn said.

The meeting broke, Barry following behind Iris.

"Good luck at Catco," he told her, "Be careful."

"It's a magazine office, Barry. What possible danger could I be in?"

Maggie smirked at the overheard conversation. She hadn't spent much time in Cat Grant's company, but she'd heard stories.

"No danger; just... be safe." Yeah, he was gonna be in _so_ much trouble later.

"Perhaps we should see your Captain together, Detective?" J'onn asked her, bringing her attention away from the departing couple. She nodded.

"Then let's go," Alex said, before J'onn stopped her.

"Alex, I need you to stay here, start organising the operation."

"Besides, if my Captain thinks I'm doing another favour for my girlfriend, she's gonna lose her damn mind," Maggie added.

"Then go do a job," Alex said to her; and they touched hands before parting ways.

As J'onn... _changed_ into his suit on their way out of the DEO, Maggie found a question gnawing at her.

"Are we really doing this, J'onn? Basing a plan off Winn's sense of self-awareness and the advice of a sociopathic Ren Faire enthusiast? That's what we're doing?"

"I understand your concerns about the Green Arrow, but on his Earth, he's an experience operative. If Supergirl trusts him, so should we."

"Green Arrow's not who I'm worried about," Maggie said, "Is he... Is Winn even okay, right now, what with..."

She let a long pause stand in for recent events in Winn's personal life; events she wasn't sure J'onn knew about, that she wasn't even sure _she_ should know about, but Alex had told her anyway. Maggie felt guilty afterwards for laughing so hard about it.

Alex, not so much.

"What I just said goes double for Agent Schott. Even now," J'onn said. "In the two years I've known him, he's never dropped the ball. Not once. Not even when I had to suspend him. And I believe we should act as though that will continue to be the case."

"What if the Toyman doesn't drop the ball either?" she asked him.

J'onn didn't answer. That wasn't a good sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Maggie :-)
> 
> Comments are always welcome (and I will catch up with them, I promise).


	7. Six Meetings Before Lunch

"Wow," Iris said, taking in Catco's newsroom; running her hand down the back of the neon pink lioness that graced the lobby as she walked past, "Central City News was so small time compared to this."

"We like it," Kara said, with a diplomatic amount of pride. Four years in, working at Catco had sometimes felt ordinary, like the lesser part of her life, now that there was Supergirl. But getting the opportunity to show Iris around reminded her just how blessed she was; that some people had been struggling their whole lives for the chance to work somewhere like this. And still were.

"James's office is at the far end, but we need to stop by my desk first, or my editor's gonna-"

"I wouldn't go there just yet if I were you," James said, appearing behind them suddenly.

Kara spun around. "Uh... Iris, you remember James, our CEO and managing editor of... well, everything?" she said, making introductions.

"I do. Less armour this time, I see," Iris said as they shook hands. She noticed Kara's pointed look as she realised what she'd said. "Sorry."

"Don't mention it," James said, warmly.

"Is Snapper mad?" Kara asked, earnestly.

"He would have liked you to have been here earlier so you could get a quote from your contact on the Guardian story from last night," James explained.

"I have that with me, I-" Kara began, optimistically; then slowed as she realised what had happened. "You filed the story already, didn't you?"

"He's also not thrilled about that," James said, with a satisfied smile.

Kara sighed. "Fine," she said, heavily, "Maybe we should just go to your office, we have a favour to ask."

"Depends who you want to avoid more. Cat's... a lot more herself today. I think she's on edge," he said.

"Ms. Grant's here?" Kara asked, "Did you two have another... conversation?"

The past few times Cat Grant had been in the office, she had forced James into discussions about Guardian, and how dangerous it was, for him and for the company. James was getting a little tired of it.

"Got a big meeting in the city today, apparently," James said, ignoring the question, "I think she might be looking to sell."

"That's absurd. She build Catco from the ground up, she would never sell," Kara argued.

"I'm just saying."

"Wait," Iris interrupted, "*Cat Grant* owns this place?"

"Uh, yes?" Kara replied.

"Cat Grant? The Queen of the Red Carpet?" Iris continued, incredulously, "The snotty asshole who critises mani-pedis for a living? The one from the George Clooney video?"

"Um, I think you might be mistaken-" James began, his eyes focused behind Iris, as Kara adjusted her glasses in the hope Iris would notice Kara silently begging her to *stop talking*.

"You know? The one where she fake-laughs at him so hard she drops her microphone-"

*Stop. Talking. Right. Now.* 

"-And then as she picks it up off the floor, she totally grabs his-"

"I don't seem to recall this particular event, and I'm fairly certain Amal would have reminded me over margeritas last week - Kira, who is your little friend?" Cat Grant announced, her eyes drilling into Iris's skull.

"Ms. Grant!" Kara exclaimed, pretending she'd only just noticed Cat standing there and failing, "Uh, this is-"

"Iris West. Central City News," Iris said, confidently, hand outstretched; as though the last thirty seconds simply hadn't happened.

"Central City. How _quaint_ ," Cat replied, ignoring Iris's invitation. Kara shuddered. She _was_ more herself today. Maybe James was right. 

"High-tech capital of the North-west," Iris responded, not giving an inch.

"Yes, I've heard that pathetic attempt at rebranding, too. Well, Ms. West, what exactly is a CCN reporter doing in my newsroom?"

"Oh, Iris is just visiting; I was showing her around-" Kara began, defensively.

Cat kept eye-contact with Iris the whole time she spoke. "And is this the best use of your time, Kira?"

Kara hadn't seen this side of Cat in a while. It was like when your high-school bully sends you a friend request.

"Well, Ms. Grant, Iris is helping me with this story I'm working on-"

"Would that story, by any chance, involve your friend _The Blur_ having returned to National City?" 

"He prefers The Flash-" Kara said, earnestly.

"I know, but he'll like the name I give him," Cat replied dismissively, "Now, Snapper hasn't seen you all morning. I would recommend that you remedy that."

"Yes, Ms. Grant," Kara conceded.

"Chop, chop," Cat finished, and Kara grabbed Iris's hand to lead her away before anything else could go wrong.

"Oh, Ms. West?" 

Iris stopped as Cat called for her. Kara held her breath.

"Red carpets are about people. You may think they're a distraction, and they are; but that doesn't mean that they're a meaningless one. Those people hold an enormous amount of influence on people's lives; it's important to remind everyone, including them, that they're still just... people."

Iris drew herself up.

"And that means drawing attention to their bad pedicures?" 

"When that's what's there."

Years of working besides Cat told Kara it was best that they stopped this *now*, so pulled Iris along before Iris could argue her next point.

Cat turned back to James.

"You should hire her."

"Really? You don't hate her?" he asked, befuddled.

"Not what I said. You're going to need reporters like her. Now, I'm going to unavailable all day; so while I'm gone, I would be thrilled if you could focus more on running my company and less on promoting your extra-curricular activities, if that wouldn't be too much... _trouble_?"

"Yes, Ms. Grant," he answered dutifully.

"Glad to hear it."

 

"Obviously, Supergirl will take aerial support."

"Agreed. But you should be part of the escort on the ground."

"I work better from the rooftops."

"Really? You're gonna keep up with a police escort, on rooftops, on foot?"

"I suppose I could, maybe, carry him around-"

" _That's not going to happen._ "

The discussion had been going on for about an hour now. Winn had stayed on the sidelines. You wouldn't think it was possible for to keep going around in circles while organising a simple escort, but here they were.

Felicity had tried to keep the peace, but with little success. Oliver was rattled, so she wasn't getting anywhere with him; and Alex didn't know her, so no luck there. Now, she, too, was trying not to get in anyone's way.

Winn sidled over to her, trying not to disturb the argument.

"So... does this make sense to you?" he whispered.

"Strategy meetings are always the hardest."

"No, I mean-" Winn struggled with the words, "Does Toyman's plan track with everything else he's done?"

"I don't know if I'm the best person to ask. But Oliver thinks it does."

"Yeah, but I'm not asking Oliver. I'm asking you. You've been the guy-in-the-chair on this, you see the whole board. Does the Toyman going after this guy on the way to protective custody make sense to you?"

Felicity thought for a moment. "Well, no. But you said he would."

"I said that Martell was in danger if we did nothing, that's not the same thing."

"So... what *do* you think the Toyman has planned?"

"I don't know."

"Okay. But do you want to tell them that?"

They both looked back at the larger discussion. Winn could see Alex had her shooting face on.

"No."

"So, have a better answer. You see the whole board, too; I'm guessing you were on the chess team. What move would you make?"

"I wasn't on the chess team," Winn corrected; adding, "I'm getting lessons, though," while realising the more accurate term would be 'schooled'.

"Your teacher any good?" 

"She's the best," he replied, quietly; but with his whole heart.

"I see," she said, inferring a world of meaning from those three words, "Well, then, you've gotta ask yourself: what move would *she* make?"

 

"Loretta? Can we get a word in private?"

Maggie watched as her commanding officer peered around her towards where J'onn stood behind her, then gave Maggie a piercing look. She knew what was up.

"Am I going to like this?" Loretta asked, impatiently.

"Not even a little bit," she confessed. It always paid to be honest with Loretta.

The short-haired woman gestured Maggie to follow, and Maggie did the same for J'onn. Loretta led the way, quickly, as she always did; and was already sat down at her desk in her reading glasses by the time J'onn made it to her office door.

"John Jones, Loretta Hook," Maggie said, by way of introduction.

J'onn reached out his hand in friendship. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain H-"

"Loretta's fine," she replied; quickly, and without humour. She stayed in her seat as she shook his hand, then motioned for him to sit.

"Now, who are you, and what won't I like?" she asked, as she gave a report on her desk the majority of her attention.

J'onn put his best foot forward. "Well, Loretta, I'm the agent in charge at the local FBI field office; and with your permission, I'd like to commandeer your detective for a few days."

"FBI?" Loretta repeated back to J'onn over her glasses, with some skepticism; before taking them off and sweeping over her gaze toward Maggie. "You're asking permission now?"

"Loretta-" Maggie started.

"It was a rhetorical question, Detective. Now, Agent Jones," Loretta swept back, "Are there any other of my detectives you would like to commandeer, or is it just this one?"

"Just this one. She's been the lead on a case that's crossed paths with one of ours-"

"The Toyman case?" Loretta interrupted, sweeping back to Maggie, "Did you pull in the kid yet?" 

"He's clean," Maggie replied.

"And you deduced that all on your own? Not in an interrogation room, with recordings and observers, that knid of thing?" Loretta asked, accusingly.

"Agent Schott is one of my best people-" J'onn began.

"Oh, really? He's working for you now? You hired the white boy you took a kill-shot at during a crowded toy convention, after he got up on stage and fired off a pistol loaded with-" Loretta peered back at the report in front of her, emphasising as she read, "- _carbon-fibre bullets._ "

She dropped the report back on the desk. "Wow. I did not know those were a thing," she said, dripping with sarcasm; before shooting a look at a wide-eyed Maggie, and deadpanning, "I take it that didn't come up while you were deciding he was clean."

"No," Maggie said, "No, it didn't." She'd learned a lot about Winn this morning that she hadn't wanted to.

"What about the Van Gogh?" Loretta continued, "Did you know about that? No reason why you should, you only brought him in for it-"

"Mr. Schott was acting under duress during the shooting incident," J'onn said, giving Maggie a break, "He may have saved the lives of the children at that convention by firing those shots."

"And, to be honest, Agent Jones, that's kind of what's bothering me about him," Loretta said, confidently, "Terrorist kidnaps you, tells you to shoot this one guy, or he'll blow up a room full of kids? You can't see a way out? Fine. You shoot the guy."

Loretta picked up on Maggie's surprise, but powered on. "Comes down to it, you choose to end one life over many, even if it's your own. What kind of person plays the long odds on a choice like that, Agent Jones?"

J'onn, stoic as ever, considered her question.

"But," she continued, "Since I can already tell I'm not going to get anywhere with this, why don't you tell me why you need Sawyer and not McConnell?"

"Detective Sawyer is well-versed with all the players in our investigation," he replied.

"Like the Toyman? McConnell knows more," Loretta responded.

"There are... others," J'onn said, as stone-faced as possible, "We believe the perpetrator to be another individual using the Toyman as cover."

"And this perpetrator would be...?"

"Classified."

"Classified? From me, but not from my Detective?" Loretta looked like she wanted to laugh, but was being held back by sheer rage. "You have a lot of nerve, Agent Jones. Do you consider this a textbook example of inter-agency co-operation, or are you hoping to get by on a wing and a prayer?"

"This isn't an ideal situation for me, either, Cap- Loretta" J'onn replied, correcting himself. "But I believe Mr. Martell is in danger. I believe the best option is to get him and his partner safe. _And_ I believe that they will be put into greater jeopardy if the suspect knows of the FBI's involvement; which is why I would like Detective Sawyer to liaise with Mr. Martell for us."

"Won't the dozens of FBI windbreakers be a giveaway?" Loretta asked.

"Our plan is for our agents to pose as-"

"ARE YOU KIDDING?" 

Maggie had known Loretta would not like the plan. She had vastly underestimated by how much.

"You want to take credit for this operation, but pass the blame onto us when it all goes south? What on Earth made either one of you think that I would go along with this?"

"It is not safe for your officers," J'onn answered, with infuriating calmness.

"We train our officers well, Agent Jones," Loretta informed him.

"Not for this."

Loretta drew breath for another retort, but J'onn leaned forward to elaborate.

"Imagine an individual-" he began, as conciliatory as he could, "-with an intellect to solve any problem that you might bring him. _Any_ problem. _Every_ problem. From fixing your e-mail, to overthrowing governments. No questions, no dilemmas, no whys or wherefores; just give him a problem and a deadline, and you will have a workable solution delivered to you."

Maggie considered his words, and how they lined up with how he'd talked about Winn on the way over. She'd always understood Winn was smart - naive, definitely an easy mark; but smart - but she hadn't realised just _how_ smart until now. J'onn was not given to overstatement. Apparently, he was the only person Winn knew who didn't spend a lot of time underestimating him.

"And now imagine that this individual believes, with every fibre of his being, that the only way to bring justice back to an uncaring universe," he paused, before saying with absolute seriousness, "is to kill you."

J'onn wasn't given to overstatement. The implications were terrifying.

But it was working. Loretta didn't look scared. But Maggie wouldn't have said she was unafraid.

"Agent Jones, did Lex Luthor escape from prison?" Loretta asked.

"It would be simpler if he had; but no," J'onn answered. "In a perfect world, Loretta, I would work with your officers on this. But they are _outmatched_. There are operatives on this case with years of experience that have made dangerous mistakes trying avoid to what our suspect might have planned for them. Your officers would be walking into a trap. And, in all honesty, so will my agents. The only real advantage my agents have is that the trap would not have been designed for them. 

"This is your decision to make, and I will respect it. But we are running out of time. Every moment makes it more likely that our suspect will take further action; and that will likely involve an innocent man's life, if not others. You need to make this decision _now_."

Maggie could see the wheels turning in Loretta's head.

"Tick tock, Captain," J'onn said, calm as anything, after a suitable pause.

Loretta stabbed at him with her eyes. _That_ , Maggie thought, _was not a good idea_.

Loretta leaned back in her chair, obviously annoyed. "Fine," she said, conceding, "Take Sawyer with you. Go do whatever it is you're doing."

"I appreciate your assistance, Loretta," J'onn said, respectfully; as he rose, gesturing to Maggie that it was time to leave.

"I want you to know, Agent Jones, there's only one reason I'm doing this," Loretta said, moving onto the next item in her inbox.

"Which is?"

"Because," she said, reading glasses back on, "There's no way in Hell that you work for the FBI."

 

"You wanna do live-coverage of a police escort?" Snapper asked, never looking up from his desk. Their attempt to get the word out was not going well.

"No, of course not, that would be ridiculous-" Iris argued.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked her, still not looking up; before quickly adding "Never mind, I don't care. Blondie, why is this worth my time?" he asked Kara, snapping his fingers impatiently.

"It's a precaution to ensure public safety," Kara explained, fighting the urge to adjust her glasses, "There's suspicions that the Toyman may be involved."

"The Toyman escaped from prison again, and the authorities haven't announced it?" he asked, at least partially interested.

"Well, no-" she stammered. This went so much easier when she was practicing it in her head.

"So, we're talking about your boyfriend, the little IT guy?" he carried on.

"What?" Kara exclaimed.

"Boyfriend? What about-" Iris inquired, now in full-journalist mode.

"Not right now," Kara interrupted, suspecting where Iris's line of inquiry was going to go. She did not have time to deal with...any of that right now.

"Wised up to you, did he?" Snapper jabbed.

"No... No. Winn was never my boyfriend, and this isn't about him anyway," Kara barked back.

"So, where are you getting this?"

Kara hesitated. It was a mistake, she knew; but she also knew how Snapper would react when she did tell him, and it was roughly the same.

"Danvers, tell me this is based on more than just Supergirl's say so," he said; so, so tired.

"Supergirl, a federal agent, and a NC police detective," she told him.

"So: Supergirl, your sister, and her girlfriend," he said, barely glancing upward. "Danvers, I don't know why I have to keep telling you this; but _please_ , for the love of God, get an _actual_ source like a _actual_ reporter. Someone from City Hall would be good."

"She's her fiancee," Kara corrected.

"Once again, you've mistaken me for someone who cares," he said, turning back down to his desk.

"Look, this is a big deal," Iris interrupted, moving herself into his field of vision, "You've got three different sources letting you know about a routine police action; does that not seem a little odd to you?" 

"It does; come back to me when you have more," he replied, deliberately ignoring her.

"It's connected to the Green Arrow attack from last night," Kara blurted out.

That was it. That was when he looked up.

"Green Arrow? You mean Robin Hood?" 

His eyes narrowed. "Danvers? What do you have that you're not telling me?"

Kara froze. Fighting other aliens was so much easier than this.

"Just that the vigilante that fought Guardian last night is known in some circles as Green Arrow, and that if put out a story about this police escort..." she floundered, but caught a second wind when she saw Iris nodding along; "...we're likely to see more of him."

Snapper glanced at both of them, then back down at his desk.

"And this is accurate?"

She nodded. She wasn't lying. The Green Arrow was definitely going to show up at the police escort, that was for sure.

"Make it a Green Arrow background piece. The name, what he's done before, the fight with Guardian, as much as you can. Drop the police escort bit in on the way. Do it fast."

"Thank you, Snapper," Kara said, before they started away.

"Danvers?" Snapper added.

"Yes?"

"This guy started a fight with the home team. So... make sure he looks like the asshole, will ya?"

Kara considered his request.

"That... will not be a problem."

 

Two lawyers were sat at the desk in the most prestigious conference room L-Corp had. They were a necessity, and - Lena had to admit - sometimes useful. 

But they were just so painfully _dull_.

She sat in silence, a few chairs down from them, making a few notes as they droned on at each other about... she suspected it was one of the big sports, but she didn't know the names. 

She had the details she needed for the meeting memorised, but she was making notes anyway. By all accounts, this meeting was going to be... difficult.

Her phone rang on the desk. She was confused when she saw the number, but she welcomed the distraction.

"I thought you said you weren't going to be calling me," she said as she picked up.

" _Yeah, well, you're not supposed be picking up. Operational discipline's clearly not our thing_ ," Winn said, from the other end of the line.

"Yes. I'm a naughty girl," she said, with precise casualness; elliciting some strange looks from the lawyers - which she considered tedious - and an ever-so-slightly prolonged silence from the telephone, which she found immensely satisfying.

It was his own fault. He hadn't answered her question last night, and thought he was going to get out of it; which was absurd, because whatever his actual answer was going to be, it was less important to her than him being honest. Given their comparable family histories, he should know better than to play games with her.

Mostly because she could play them right back, and she was already winning. Besides, he was just so much fun to mess with.

" _Uh, yeah. I need your help with something. Are you busy?_ " Winn asked.

"I have a big meeting starting soon, but I've got a few minutes," she replied.

" _It's... kinda weird_ ," he said. 

"Of course it is," she said. Why did he think she wouldn't know it was weird? His whole _life_ was weird. "What are you waiting for? Give it to me."

Another extended silence. _So_ much fun, and she was barely trying that time.

" _So, there's this guy; and he's left a threat for someone_."

So, this was a consult on supervillain behaviour. How very disappointing.

"Okay... and you're asking _me_ about this because...?" she asked, pointedly.

" _Because you're the best strategist I know. Also, you're not armed, angry, or here_ ," he answered, " _Well, you're not here, anyway._ "

Much better. "Tell me more."

Winn was annoyingly vague on some details, but the gist was this: someone had sent a threat to a random civilian referencing the Toyman, in order to send a message to Winn. The DEO were going to put on a show of taking that civilian into protective custody in the hope the suspect would show himself to attack the convoy. If she was in this guy's position, what would she do?

"Why is he sending _you_ a message? What did you do?" It seemed a pertinent question.

" _That's classified._ "

If he had said _I don't know_ , or _I didn't do anything_ , she wouldn't have given it a second thought. But Winn - friendly, talkative Winn - had put up a big KEEP OUT sign on the rest of this story; and from the tone of his voice, she could tell that he wasn't planning on backing down.

_Now_ this was getting interesting.

She _could_ press him for more... but, no, now wasn't the time. Better to leave it for a much longer conversation from which she could get _all_ her answers.

"If it were me, it'd be a smoke-screen. Make a show of going for the convoy, while he goes after his real target," she told him, unconcerned by the ease at which the answer came.

" _Which is?_ " Winn asked, but she could tell he knew full well what the answer was already.

"That would be you, Winslow."

" _Just thought I'd check. What do I do?_ "

"I don't know what to tell you. Find the safest place that you can and stay there? I'm sure your small army of superhero friends can help you, given how tardy they all were last night," she said, biting down on her anger. Winn did a lot for them. The least they could do was keep him safe.

" _They're gonna be a little busy with the convoy._ " Of course they were.

"I don't care. They owe you. I don't want you getting hurt more."

" _That's nice to hear_ ," he said, after another prolonged silence, " _I'll take this to the team, see what we can do. You've been a big help._ "

"It's why you called, Winn."

" _Yeah. Sorry if you're late for your meeting. Who's it with?_ " he asked, genuinely interested; as though it remotely compared to the massive security operation going on where he was. It was one of his endearing qualities.

"I'll tell you about it later; I think you'll want to hear all about this," she said peering through the glass walls at the approaching figures, "Hang on, they're here. I have to go."

" _Good luck_ ," he said, cheerfully.

"You too," she replied hanging up, right before Hector showed in her guests.

"Good morning," Lena said, in a compliant tone. "I hope the drive over okay?"

"It doesn't matter," Cat Grant replied, "Can we get down to business? I have pilates with the DNC Chairman at four."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is stolen from The West Wing.
> 
> Comments are always welcome.


End file.
